p. 


OF  THE 
UNIVERSITY 


THE   TRAPPER'S    HOME. 


Bill  Bidden,  Trapper 


OS 


LIFE  IN  THE  NORTHWEST 


BY 

EDWARD  S.  ELLIS 

AUTHOR  OP    "NATHAN   TODD,"     "LIFE   OP  PONTIAC,    THE 
OONSPiaATOR,"    "LAND  OP  MYSTERY,"  RTC. 


NEW  YORK 
HURST  &  COMPANY 


PUBLISHERS 


Ckw^RioHT,  1910, 

BY 

'MUB^  &  COMPAlTil 


1  r'/. 


I  *^1 


4r^ 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTBR  PAGE 

I.  Out  Late  at  Night 9 

II.  A  New  Friend 32 

III.  The  Trapper's  Story 48 

IV.  The  Trapping  Grounds 72 

V.  Conversations  and  Plans 98 

VI.  Still  in  the  Dark— The  Canoe  Again 116 

VII.  Alone  in  the  Wilderness i34 

VIII.  Trapping  Among  the  Indians 153 

IX.  The  Buffalo  Hunt  and  its  Consequences 174 

X.  An  A^^•ful  Awakening 19^ 

XI.  The  Brigade  and  an  Old  Friend 210 

XII.  Found  at  Last 237 


UB2S12S 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

The  Trapper's  Home Frontispiece 

FAGB 

"  What's  your  handle,  stranger  ?  " 41 

"  Gave  a  snort  of  alarm  and  plunged  headlong  away  into  the 

droves." 6i 

"  Looking  back  saw  a  host  of  savage  forms/' 79 

**  In  the  stem,  with  a  guiding  oar,  sat  a  young  female." 93 

"  I  could  see  his  two  coal-black  eyes  glittering  plainly." 145 

"  Setting  up  a  wild  yell,  the  Indians  scattered  and  plunged 

after  them." 177 

**  Without  losing  a  moment,  we  mounted  and  struck  to  the 

northward." 203 

"  A  fight !  a  fight !    make  a  ring  for  them." 213 

**  No  less  personage  than  Nat  stepped  ashore." 239 

"Hilloft,  youl" 251 


BILL  BIDDON,  TRAPPER; 

OR, 

LIFE  IN  THE  NORTHWEST. 


CHAPTER  I. 


OUT  LATE  AT   XIGHT. 


"  How  is  it,  Nat?    Any  light  yet?  " 

"  Not  the  least  sign  of  one,  and  it's  my  opinion 
it  will  be  a  long  time  before  we  see  another." 

"  What!  you  haven't  given  up  all  hopes  of  reach- 
ing the  camp?  I  hope  not,  as  I  don't  relish  the 
idea  of  camping  out  to-night." 

"  Nor  I  either ;  but  Fm  thinking  it  will  come  to 
that  sooner  or  later." 

"  Well,  there  are  several  hours  yet,  in  which  w^e 
must  plod  onward,"  I  added,  trudging  wearily 
behind  my  companion. 

Before  going  further,  I  may  as  well  introduce 
my  friend  and  myself.     My  companion  answered 

9 


JO  BILL  BIDDON,  TRAPPER, 

to  the  name  of  Nathan  Todd,  and  was  a  native  of 
Maine.     He  was  a  tall,  lank  individual,  with  long, 
attentuated  limbs  and  an  awkward  appearance  gen- 
erally.    He   was  very   meager  and   muscular,  and 
when  roused  to  a  heat  of  passion,  as  quick  and  pow- 
erful as  the  panther.     His  gait  was  an  ungainly, 
straddling  one,  and  he  was  seemingly  capable  of 
anything  but  speed;  but  on  one  or  two  occasions 
since  leaving  the  States,  he  had  shown  a  fleetness 
of  foot  which   was   truly  wonderful.     He   was   a 
good,  open-hearted   fellow,    and    one    who,    when 
driven  to  the  wall,  would  be  a  dangerous  enemy. 
Once  or  twice,  however,  he  had  shown  the  white 
feather,  and  his  natural  timidity  would  often  evince 
itself.     As  a  consequence,   Nat  was  not,  perhaps, 
the  safest  companion  in  the  hour  of  danger;  but, 
for  all  that,  there  was  no  one  in  our  party  whose 
presence  I   would  have   preferred  upon  the   night 
in  which  I  introduce  him  to  notice.     There  was  no 
imminent  peril  threatening  us,  and  Nat  was  a  cap- 
ital companion,   who  could  while-away   the  hours, 
if  he  chose,  with  his  inexhaustible  store  of  anec- 
dote and  humor.     I  knew  he  entertained  a  warm 
affection  for  me,  and  would  brave  almost  any  dan- 
ger rather  than  be  suspected  of  his  only  deficiency. 
A  single  intimation  would  decide  his  course  in  a 
moment. 


BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER.  n 

Nat  wore  a  singular  dress — half  savage  and  half 
civilized.  The  pants  and  shoes  were  such  as  are 
fashionable  in  the  enlightened  world ;  but  a  capa- 
cious hunting-shirt  encased  his  body,  secured 
around  the  waist  by  a  heavy  band,  and  much  the 
same  as  are  worn  by  the  hunters  and  natives  of  the 
Far  West  at  the  present  day.  The  most  striking 
part  of  his  dress,  however,  was  the  hat.  This  he 
had  brought  with  him  from  Maine,  and  it  really 
seemed  indestructible.  It  was  a  gray  color,  and 
having  lost  its  band  a  long  time  before,  had  ac- 
quired the  shape  of  a  cone.  When  it  rested  on  his 
head,  the  edge  reached  the  shoulders  behind,  and 
the  eyebrows  in  front,  and  the  pointed  peak  v/as 
far  off  above  the  crown. 

Nathan  Todd's  face  was  full  of  shrewdness  and 
good  humor.  He  had  a  large,  curved  nose,  broad 
mouth,  and  a  fine  blue  eye.  The  chin  was  retreat- 
ing; but  this  drawback  was  modified  partly  by  a 
long  tuft  of  yellow  hair,  the  only  signs  of  beard 
upon  his  face,  except  a  shadowy  mustache.  The 
hair  was  long  and  sandy,  and  harmonized  well  with 
the  rest  of  his  countenance.  There  was  ever  a 
contraction  of  the  eyebrows — a  sort  of  unspoken 
question — so  often  seen  in  persons  from  "  down 
east,"  which  indicated  a  prying,  curious  disposition. 

As  for  myself,  my  name  is  William  Relmond,  and 


12  BILL  BIDDON,  TRAPPER. 

I  hail  from  one  of  the  middle  States.  Shortly  after 
the  announcement  of  the  discovery  of  gold  in  Cali- 
fornia, I  was  seized  with  the  lunacy  that  was 
carrying  its  thousands  to  the  Pacific  coast.  I  was 
well  situated  i<n  life  at  home,  but  that  was  not  con- 
sidered. I  must  go  and  fish  up  a  fabulous  fortune 
also.  I  had  one  brother  and  several  sisters,  but 
our  parents  had  been  dead  for  some  years,  and  we 
were  residing  with  an  uncle,  the  guardian  of  each, 
until  maturity.  A  favorable  opportunity  offering 
I  had  made  some  preparation  for  the  legal  profes- 
sion ;  but  I  was  never  inclined  to  Coke,  and  had  no 
intention  of  pursuing  the  practice  of  the  law  in 
after  life.  At  the  age  of  twenty,  then,  without  a 
settled  purpose  in  life,  I  determined  to  make  a 
journey  to  the  El  Dorado  of  the  New  World.  I  was 
not  influenced  solely  by  the  love  of  gain,  in  taking 
this  step,  but  the  love  of  adventure  urged  me  irre- 
sistibly on.  I  had  heard  wonderful  stories  of  the 
boundless  prairies,  of  the  wandering  hordes  of  In- 
dians, their  millions  of  buffaloes  and  horses,  and  the 
vast,  billowy  ocean  of  verdure  and  sunshine,  and  the 
Far  West  seemed  the  paradise  of  the  world  to 
me. 

I  was  provided  with  an  ample  outfit  at  home, 
and  departed  amid  the  tears  of  my  good  uncle  and 
affectionate    sisters.      I    proceeded    by    the    usua! 


BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER.  j^ 

route  to  Independence,  Missouri,  where  I  made 
inquiries  of  the  trains  which  were  constantly  leav- 
ing the  point  for  Oregon  and  California.  In  my 
wanderings,  I  stumbled  upon  Nat  Todd,  my  pres- 
ent companion.  He  had  just  arrived  from  his  dis- 
tant home,  where  he  had  left  a  widowed  mother 
and  a  disconsolate  sweetheart.  But  he  said  he  was 
going  to  return,  in  just  two  years  from  the  day  he 
left,  with  a  "  rousing  heap  "  of  money,  and  intended 
to  buy  "  Squire  Hunt's  farm,"  take  Alminy  down 
there,  and  live  the  rest  of  his  life.  His  frankness 
and  humor  impressed  me  favorably ;  and,  lafter 
a  short  conversation,  we  grasped  hands,  and  swore 
to  remain  by  each  other  till  our  adventures  were 
terminated  by  death  or  a  happy  denouement. 

We  engaged  places  in  a  train  which  left  the  next 
day.  This  company  numbered  nigh  two  hundred 
persons,  and  was  composed  of  all  kinds  of  charac- 
ters, except  females.  There  were  French  voya- 
geiirs,  Irishmen,  and  an  agent  of  one  of  the  west- 
ern fur  companies,  and  the  majority  of  the  rest 
were  those  just  from  the  plow  or  the  workshop. 
They  had  secured  the  services  of  an  experienced 
guide,  and  were  well  equipped  for  the  perilous 
journey  before  them. 

The  overland  route,  at  this  time,  was  so  alive 
.with  passing  emigrants,  that  few,  depredations  were 


H 


BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER. 


committed  by  the  Indians.  The  savages  sometimes 
hung  around  companies,  but  as  there  were  almost 
always  other  whites  in  sight,  they  rarely  ventured 
upon  any  greater  crime  than  pilfering.  Nothing 
worthy  of  note  occurred  upon  the  journey  for  a 
length  of  time.  We  experienced  the  usual  mishaps 
and  trials  of  emigrants,  but  nothing  more  startling. 
We  sometimes  lost  a  part  of  our  baggage  and  pro- 
visions in  crossing  the  rivers,  and  were  greatly  dis- 
comforted by  the  terrific  storms  which  often  rage 
in  these  regions.  Then,  again,  we  traveled  mile 
after  mile,  and  hour  after  hour  upon  the  dry,  mo- 
notonous, glistening  rolling  prairie,  so  wearied  and 
tired  of  the  scene  that  we  hardly  exchanged  a 
syllable  for  hours  at  a  stretch. 

At  last,  the  plains  of  Kansas  were  reached.  On 
the  day  in  which  I  introduce  my  friend  and  myself 
to  notice,  we  had  descried  a  solitary  antelope  at  a 
great  distance  upon  the  prairie,  and  set  out  to  bring 
it  down.  We  left  our  horses  behind,  hoping  to 
reach  the  animal  by  stratagem.  I  approached  it 
near  enough  to  wound  it,  when  it  made  off  with  the 
speed  of  the  wind.  Expecting  to  see  it  give  out 
each  moment,  we  followed  it  mile  after  mile,  until 
gathering  darkness  warned  us  that  night  was  at 
hand,  when  we  halted  in  alarm,  and  were  compelled 
to  allow  the  antelope  to  escape,  while  we  endeavored 


BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER.  jc 

to  retrace  our  steps.  The  caravan  was  nowhere  in 
sight,  and  we  doubted  not  that  it  had  disappeared 
hours  before.  We  left  the  train  about  noon,  and 
had  been  warned  that  they  would  not  halt  or  wait 
for  us,  and  should  we  lose  them,  they  would  take 
no  pains  to  hunt  us  up.  But  we  heeded  not  this, 
as  we  expected  to  keep  them  constantly  in  view, 
and  have  the  antelope  cooked  for  our  supper. 

But  I  have  shown  how  widely  we  were  mis- 
taken. We  were  compelled  to  see  the  night  shut 
down  around  us,  without  bringing  us  any  hope  of 
spending  it  with  our  friends ;  and  at  a  late  hour 
we  were  still  plodding  aimlessly  over  the  prairie. 

"  No  light  yet,  Nat  ?  "  I  asked,  for  the  twentieth 
time. 

"  Well,  I  should  think  you  had  asked  that 
question  about  often  enough,  to  be  suited  with  my 
answer." 

"  I  expect  to  ask  it  a  dozen  times  more." 

"  Then  I'll  just  answer  at  once  for  all,  so  I  won't 
be  troubled  agin  with  talkin'.  No!  there's  the  an- 
swer." 

"  I  don't  know  but  what  you  are  right,  Nat  We 
must  have  come  a  long  distance,  utterly  unconscious 
of  it,  in  our  eagerness  to  get  that  plaguey  antelope, 
and  it  is  useless  to  hope  to  reach  camp  again  before 
morning." 


l6  BILL  BIDDON,  TRAPPER. 

"  That's  my  opinion,  exactly.  That  camp,  I 
opine,  is  a  good  dozen  miles  off  yet." 

**  Then  we  may  have  a  chance  of  reaching  it  still 
before  morning,  as  this  bright  moon  favors  us." 

The  moon,  full  and  clear,  had  arisen  an  hour 
before,  and  its  light  illumined  the  prairie  for  a 
great  distance  around.  Far  away,  on  every  hand, 
we  could  discern  the  blue  outline  of  the  horizon, 
while  the  prairie  seemed  to  roll  up  against  it  like 
the  dark  boundaries  of  a  mighty  ocean.  Every- 
thing was  as  silent  and  motionless  as  though  we 
were  treading  a  region  of  death. 
.  Mile  after  mile,  we  trudged  on,  beguiling  the 
time  by  conversation.  The  ground  was  dry  and 
hard,  and  the  vegetation  scarce  and  stunted.  The 
day  had  been  quite  warm,  and  there  was  a  delicious 
coolness  about  the  evening  air  that  made  it  pleasant 
to  walk  an  hour  or  so;  but  as  more  than  double 
that  time  had  expired  since  we  commenced,  it  had 
long  been  exceedingly  wearisome  to  us. 

''  I  wonder  whether  those  fellows  will  go  a  foot 
out  of  the  way  to  pick  us  up,"  muttered  Nat,  half 
to  himself. 

"  I  don't  believe  they  will.  They  told  us  tliey 
wouldn't  and  they  value  their  time  too  highly  to 
waste  it  for  a  couple  who  are  of  no  account  to  them, 
especially  since  we  can  fall  in  with  other  trains." 


BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER.  ly 

"  I  reckon  they're  of  some  account  to  us,  being 
they  have  got  both  our  horses  and  considerable  of 
our  traveling  apparatus." 

"  That  is  too  true,  Nat.  In  fact,  since  we  have 
been  walking  here,  I  have  persuaded  myself  that 
those  fellows  would,  just  as  likely  as  not,  turn 
something  out  of  the  way  to  get  rid  of  us." 

"  Somehow  or  other,  I've  felt  just  the  same  for  a 
week." 

"  Then,  if  we  value  our  property,  we  mustn't  let 
them  slip." 

"  No ;  I'll  be  shot,  if  we  must !  "  exclaimed  Nat, 
half  angrily,  striking  at  once  into  a  more  rapid 
walk.  "  If  they  run  off  with  my  mare,  I'll— I'll— " 
and  again  he  strode  faster  over  the  prairie. 

Long — long,  we  journeyed  in  silence.  Nat's 
apprehensions  had  been  aroused,  and  he  was  will- 
ing to  walk  the  whole  night  to  come  up  with  those 
in  whose  honesty  he  had  so  little  faith.  Now  and 
then  he  would  mutter  incoherently  to  himself  and 
shoot  ahead,  keeping  me  almost  on  a  run  to  main- 
tain my  place  beside  him.  Suddenly  he  halted,  and 
turned  upon  me  with  an  expression  I  shall  never 
forget.  I  could  see  his  eyes  expanded  to  twice  their 
usual  size,  and  his  whole  face  aglow  beneath  his 
monstrous  hat,  as  he  asked  in  a  cold  whisper: 

"Wonder  if  there's  In j ins  about  to-night.?*' 


jg  BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER, 

I  laughed  outright. 

"  Why,  Nat,  you  ain't  afraid,  are  you  ? " 

"Who  said  I  was  afraid?  I  just  asked  a  ques- 
tion." 

"  What  possessed  you  to  ask  such  a  question  ?  " 

"  Don't  know ;  just  come  into  my  mind.  Do 
you  s'pose  there  are  any  Injins  roving  round  the 
country  to-night  ?  " 

"  I  am  sure  I  cannot  tell,  but  I  think  it  extremely 
probable.  Are  you  fearful  that  there  are  some  upon 
our  trail  ?  " 

"  There  might  be !  No ;  I  was  thinking  if  we 
should  come  across  any  of  them,  they  might  be  able 
to  tell  us  whether  any  of  them  chaps  think  we're 
lost,  and  have  run  off  with  my  mare." 

**  Should  we  meet  a  lot  of  those  savages,  no 
doubt  they  would  tell  us  something  else  besides 
that." 

"  I  expect  so,"  and  he  wheeled  around  and  strode 
ahead  again.  It  was  now  getting  near  midnight, 
and  I  was  completely  worn  out.  It  was  out  of  the 
question  to  reach  the  camp  that  night,  and  we  might 
as  v/ell  submit  to  our  fate  at  once,  so  I  spoke  rather 
decidedly. 

"  I'm  tired  of  this." 

Nat  turned  and  looked  at  me  a  second,  and  then 
answered : 


BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER.  19 

"  So  am  I.  We've  to  camp  out  to  night,  and 
there's  no  use  in  waiting  till  morning  afore  we  do 
it.  Ain't  it  lucky  you  brought  your  blanket  with 
you?  It  would  go  hard  to  do  without  that  to- 
night." 

"  I  brought  it  with  me  by  merest  chance,  not 
thinking  I  should  need  it.  It  was  indeed  fortunate ; 
and  now  let  us  prepare  to  use  it." 

There  was  not  much  choice  on  the  hard  but  warm 
earth.  My  blanket  was  ample  and  sufficient  for 
us  both.  After  some  search,  a  small  depression  was 
selected,  and  in  this  I  spread  my  heavy  blanket. 
We  then  stretched  ourselves  upon  it,  pulled  the 
ends  over  us,  being  sure  to  inclose  our  rifles  in  its 
folds,  and  resigned  ourselves  to  sleep.  In  that 
lone  hour,  I  forgot  not  that  there  was  one  arm  upon 
which  I  could  rely,  and  One  only  who  could  watch 
over  me  until  morning,  and  to  that  protection  I 
appealed. 

Ere  the  sun  was  fairly  above  the  horizon,  we 
were  up  and  upon  our  way.  Knowing  the  company 
would  not  be  in  motion  for  several  hours,  we  hoped 
to  reach  them  before  they  breakfasted,  and  have  a 
laugh  over  our  night's  adventure.  Nat  led  the  way, 
and  took  long,  rapid  strides  over  the  ground, 
seemingly  oblivious  of  the  existence  of  any  one  else. 
I  kept  beside  him,  now  and  then  venturing  a  remark. 


20  BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER, 

but  receiving  no  answer  or  intimation  that  I  was 
heard. 

Suddenly,  my  friend  came  to  a  dead  halt,  dropped 
the  butt  of  his  rifle  to  the  earth  with  a  ringing 
clamp,  and  wheeled  upon  me  with  one  of  those  in- 
describable looks.  I  had  seen  these  before,  so  that 
I  knew  something  unusual  was  agitating  him. 

"What's  the  trouble  now?" 

"  It's  no  use ;  we'll  never  see  that  company  agin." 

"  What  makes  you  think  thus  ?  " 

**  I  know  so.  I  had  a  dream  last  night  that  my 
mare  was  gone  for  ever  and  ever,  and  I  know  she 
is.  Don't  you  remember  that  fur  agent  told  us 
they'd  change  the  direction  they's  traveling  some 
time  yesterday?  They  hadn't  done  it  when  we  left 
them,  and  they  done  it  as  soon  as  we  got  out  of 
sight,  I  warrant." 

I  now  remembered  hearing  our  guide  remark, 
as  also  did  the  fur  agent  with  us,  that  the  trail  we 
were  following  made  an  abrupt  bend  some  miles 
ahead.  We  were  traveling  northeast  at  that  time, 
and  the  contemplated  change  was  nearly  due  south- 
west. This  fact  had  entirely  escaped  our  minds, 
until  it  now  occurred  to  Nat,  and  we  had,  con- 
sequently, been  proceeding  in  a  wrong  direction. 
By  referring  to  the  sun,  we  found  we  had  gone  far 
too  much  to  the  east  in  order  to  intercept  the  train, 


BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER.  21 

whicii  was  now  in  all  probability  many  leagues  to 
the  southwest. 

This  was  a  discovery  which  was  overwhelming. 
We  had  then  been  journeying  in  a  direction  which 
had  brought  us  not  a  foot  nearer  the  company  than 
if  we  had  remained  motionless;  and  it  was  certain 
that  the  party  was  irrecoverably  lost. 

**  This  is  a  pleasant  discovery,  Nat." 

"  Very." 

"  I  see  no  hope  for  your  mare.  She  is  probably 
a  good  day's  journey  distant,  and  we  do  not  know 
what  direction  to  take  to  reach  her." 

"  That's  it,"  replied  Nat,  ill-humoredly ;  "  if  I 
knowed  sure  what  way  to  tramp  to  find  her,  I 
wouldn't  stop  till  I'd  laid  my  hands  on  her  for  a 
certainty ;  but  this  trudging  along,  and  just  as  like 
as  not  going  away  from  her  all  the  time,  isn't  the 
thing." 

"  I  see  no  course  left  then,  but  to  proceed  south, 
in  the  hope  of  falling  in  with  some  emigrant  train, 
or  in  striking  the  Oregon  trail,  north,  and  getting 
into  California  ahead  of  them." 

"The  Oregon  trail  will  have  to  be  our  destina- 
tion, then.  If  these  fellows  find  they've  got  the 
start  of  us,  they  won't  give  us  a  chance  to  come  up 
again,  and  we  might  as  well  try  to  catch  the  whirl- 
wind as  to  follow  them.     No;   we  must  try  the 


22  BILL  BIDDON,  TRAPPER. 

ready  for  them  when  they  come.  How  far  is  the 
trail  off?" 

"  It  ean't  be  more  than  a  day's  journey ;  the  trail 
follows  the  Platte  through  Nebraska,  and  I'm 
pretty  sure  we  can  reach  it  by  nightfall,  if  we  pro- 
ceed pretty  steadily  and  rapidly." 

The  day  was  clear  and  pleasant,  and  the  sky 
devoid  of  the  least  signs  of  threatening  storm. 
There  were  two  or  three  white  clouds  straggling 
off  in  the  western  horizon,  but  the  sky  was  of  a 
deep  clear  blue.  We  were  now  proceeding  in  a 
northward  direction,  intending  to  strike  the  Platte 
at  the  nearest  point.  South,  east,  and  west  the 
small  waving  hills  of  the  prairie  stretched,  unre- 
lieved by  the  slightest  object,  except  in  the  west 
the  far-off  outline  of  some  mountain-peak  was  just 
visible,  resembling  a  slight  pointed  cloud  against 
the  blue  sky.  This  disappeared  at  noon,  and  we 
were  again  like  wanderers  upon  the  illimitable  sea. 
A  short  time  after,  Nat's  keen  vision  detected  a 
number  of  black,  moving  specks  far  to  the  west- 
ward. 

"  An  emigrant  train,  perhaps,"  I  suggested. 

"  They're  Pawnee  In j  ins  as  sure  as  the  world,  and 
we'd  better  give  them  a  wide  berth." 

"Pawnee  Indians!  How  do  you  know  tViat? 
You  never  have  been  in  this  section  before  ?  " 


BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER.  ^^ 

"  That's  true,  but  you  don't  s'pose  I  started  out 
here  without  first  larning  something  'bout  the  coun- 
try and  folks,  do  you?  If  you  do,  you're  mighty 
mistaken.  Just  let  me  know  in  what  part  of  the 
country  we  are,  and  I'll  let  you  know  what  sights 
you  will  see,  that  is,  if  we  are  going  to  see  any 
at  all.  But  let's  keep  to  the  east;  I  don't  want  to 
keep  them  Pawnees  in  sight." 

"  The  Pawnee  Indians  are  reported  friendly  to 
the  whites." 

"  Exactly ;  but  have  they  been  reported  honest  ? 
If  they  should  come  upon  us  and  take  a  fancy  to 
our  rifles,  what  is  there  to  prevent  them  from  tak- 
ing them?  And,"  added  Nat,  with  a  shrewd  shake 
of  his  head.  "  I've  not  faith  enough  in  their 
good  intentions  to  want  'em  in  sight  at  this  par- 
ticular time." 

There  was  a  great  deal  of  reason  in  his  remarks, 
and  it  was  not  unwillingly  that  I  turned  my  face 
more  to  the  northeast,  and  soon  saw  them  disappear 
from  view. 

Some  time  toward  the  middle  of  the  afternoon 
we  descried  a  solitary  buffalo  ahead.  He  had 
apparently  left  his  friends  and  wandered  about  as 
though  entirely  lost.  After  considerable  difficulty 
we  approached  nigh  enough  to  bring  him  down. 
He  was  quite  poor,  and  his  flesh  was  strong  and 


2^  BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER. 

Oregon  trail,  and  get  into  California  first,  and  be 
tough;  but  we  were  glad  enough  to  get  it,  such  as 
it  was.  He  was  thrown  on  his  face,  with  his  knees 
bent  under  him,  a  keen  knife  run  along  the  spine 
with  just  sufficient  force  to  penetrate  the  skin,  which 
was  then  pulled  down  each  side.  This  done,  we  cut 
the  choice  portions  out.  Nat  reserved  the  buffalo- 
skin  for  his  blanket,  and  the  rest  was  thrown  away. 
We  made  a  hearty  meal,  and  about  the  middle  of 
the  afternoon  again  set  forward,  hoping  to  accom- 
plish quite  a  distance  ere  nightfall. 

Just  at  dark  we  reached  a  stream  of  considerable 
size,  which  I  afterward  learned  was  the  Republi- 
can Fork  of  Nebraska.  The  point  at  which  we 
struck  it,  was  about  where  it  leaves  the  territory 
of  Kansas  and  enters  Nebraska.  Although  no  con- 
siderable stream,  we  concluded  not  to  cross  it  be- 
fore morning,  and  we  made  arrangements  for  pass- 
ing the  night  upon  its  banks.  There  was  consider- 
able timber  at  different  points,  and  a  goodly  quantity 
of  driftwood  lay  scattered  along  its  banks.  As 
the  river  was  quite  low,  we  gathered  several  arm- 
fuls,  and  had  a  fire  soon  started.  We  had  brought 
some  meat  of  the  slain  buffalo  with  us,  but  con- 
cluded not  to  cook  supper,  as  our  appetites  were 
satiated. 

Seated  round  our  fire,  half-hidden  in  a  depres- 


BILL  BIDDON,  TRAPPER.  25 

sion  in  the  river  bottom,  with  the  dark,  glistening 
stream  flowing  silently  by,  and  smoking  our  pipes, 
we  naturally  fell  into  an  easy  conversation. 

"  We  can't  be  far  from  the  '  trail,'  can  we  ? " 
asked  Nat. 

"  Farther  than  I  suspected,"  I  answered.  "  The 
Republican  Fork,  which  I  am  convinced  is  the 
stream  out  there,  is  over  fifty  miles  from  the 
Platte,  which,  with  several  other  streams  must  be 
crossed  before  the  trail  is  reached." 

"  Fudge !  I  don't  believe  I  can  head  off  them 
fellows  after  all,  and  my  old  mare  and  overcoat 
will  go  to  thunder." 

"  They  will  go  somewhere  where  you  will  never 
see  them  again." 

"  I  know  I'm  bound  to  lose  'em,  and  I  shan't 
think  any  more  about  them.'* 

*'  That's  the  best  plan,  Nat.  They  are  no  great 
loss." 

"  I  sh'd  like  to  knew  whether  that  greaser  or 
fur  agent  took  them  though,"  interrupted  my 
friend,  earnestly. 

After  this  he  fell  into  a  fit  of  musing,  and  we 
remained  silent  for  some  time.  When  the  fire  had 
burnt  low,  I  arose  and  replenished  it.  Nat  looked 
anxiously  at  the  roaring  blaze,  carrying  ashes  and 


26  BILL  BIDDON,  TRAPPER. 

cinders  high  in  the  air,  and  reflecting  far  out 
upon  the  dark  river,  and  he  remarked: 

"  Wonder  if  some  Injins  won't  see  that." 

"  I  guess  not.  We  are  so  low  down  the  bank 
that  I  think  It  can  be  visible  for  no  considerable 
distance  upon  the  prairie,  and  the  bend  in  the  river 
fortunately  saves  us  from  view  up  or  down  the 
stream.  The  only  point  from  which  it  would 
attract  attention  is  directly  across  from  us." 

"  And  it  looks  suspicious  enough  there,"  repeated 
Nat,  in  a  whisper,  removing  his  pipe  and  gazing 
across  the  river. 

It  did  indeed  look  gloomy,  forbidding,  and 
threatening.  Our  fire  was  nearly  on  the  level  with 
the  water,  which  rolled  darkly  and  noisily  at  our 
very  feet;  and  when  its  crackling  blaze  arose  high- 
er than  usual,  the  low  face  of  the  opposite  shore 
was  struck  by  the  light.  At  such  times  I  could  not 
help  reflecting  what  favorable  chances  were  af- 
forded any  foe  who  might  be  lurking  opposite.  I 
involuntarily  shrunk  from  the  fire,  and  felt  relieved 
when  the  shore  blended  with  the  darkness. 

It  began  to  grow  quite  late,  the  fire  had  smold- 
ered low,  when  Nat,  removing  his  cap,  turned 
upon  me  with : 

"What  do  you  think  of  our  journey  to  Cali- 
fornia ?  " 


BILL  BIDDON,  TRAPPER.  2/ 

I  was  at  a  loss  to  comprehend  his  meaning,  and 
looked  at  him  for  an  explanation. 

"  I  mean  to  ask  whether  you  feel  in  such  a  hurry 
to  get  to  mines  as  you  did  when  we  were  in  In- 
dependence ?  " 

Now,  to  confess  the  truth,  the  experience  of  the 
last  week  or  two,  and  especially  of  the  last  two 
days,  had  done  much  toward  dampening  the  ardor 
which  I  once  thought  could  never  leave  me;  and 
I  believe,  had  I  possessed  moral  courage  enough, 
I  should  have  seized  the  first  opportunity  to  re- 
turn to  the  comforts  of  a  home,  where  I  possessed 
enough  to  satisfy  any  sensible  person's  ambition. 
Still  I  hesitated  to  commit  myself. 

"  I  cannot  say  that  I  am ;  but  what  induced  you 
to " 

"  I'm  sick  of  this  business,"  interrupted  Nat, 
lengthening  his  legs  with  a  spiteful  jerk,  and  look- 
ing disgustedly  into  the  fire. 

"  What  has  come  over  you  ? "  I  asked,  half- 
amused  at  his  manner. 

"  Well  there's  that  mare " 

"  But  you  promised  not  to  think  of  her." 

"  How  can  I  help  it,  I  should  like  to  know  ? 
She's  gone  sure,  and  there's  that  overcoat,  that 
cost  me  four  dollars  and  a  half  in  Lubec;  and 
Alminy  made  a  big  pocket  in  it  on  purpose  for  mc 


28  BILL  BIDDON,  TRAPPER. 

to  fill  full  of  gold  chunks ;  and  I  should  like  to  know 
how  I  am  going  to  do  it,  when  a  Greaser  has  got 
it." 

"  I  am  afraid  that  that  would  not  be  the  only 
difficulty  you  would  be  likely  to  experience,  Nat,  in 
getting  it  filled." 

''  And  my  jack-knife  was  in  the  coat-pocket,  I 
declare !  "  exclaimed  he,  suddenly  starting  up  and 
pinching  alternately  one  pocket  and  then  another. 
"  Yes,  sir,  that's  gone,  too ;  that's  worse  than  all 
the  rest,"  he  added,  despairingly,  falling  upon  his 
elbow,  and  gazing  abstractedly  into  the  fire. 

"  That's  a  trifling  loss,  surely,  as  you  have  your 
hunting-knife." 

"  I've  a  good  notion  to  get  up  and  go  back  now," 
he  .added,  not  heeding  my  remark.  "  I'm  sick  of 
this  business.  It's  bad  enough  to  lose  the  mare, 
but  when  the  knife  is  gone  I  can't  stand  it." 

I  knew  this  was  but  a  momentary  despondency 
with  my  friend,  and  for  the  sake  of  whiling  away 
the  time  before  sleep,  I  was  inclined  to  humor  it. 

"  But  what  will  you  do  for  that  gold  that  you 
was  going  to  buy  Deacon  Hunt's  farm  with  for 
your  Alminy?  " 

"  Let  her  go  without  it,"  he  answered,  gruffly, 
without  removing  his  gaze  from  the  fire.  "  She 
can  get  along    without    it.      I    believe    she    only 


BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER.  29 

coaxed  me  to  go  off  to  Calif orny  to  get  me  out  of 
the  way,  so  that  mean  Bill  Hawkins  might  take 
my  place.  If  he  does  come  any  such  game,  he'll 
catch  it  when  I  get  back." 

I  laughed  deeply,  but  silently,  as  I  witnessed 
his  appearance  at  these  remarks.  It  was  so  earnest 
and  feeling,  that  it  was  impossible  to  resist  its 
ludicrousness. 

"  Nat,"  said  I,  after  a  moment's  thought,  in  which 
my  mind  had  taken  an  altogether  different  channel, 
"  I  am  free  to  own  that  I  have  little  faith  in  our 
success  in  California.  I  left  home  in  a  flush  of 
excitement,  without  considering  the  consequences 
of  such  a  rash  step,  and  they  are  now  beginning 
to  present  themselves.  I  propose  that  we  seek 
our  fortune  elsewhere.  The  fact  that  gold  exists 
in  California  is  now  known  all  over  the  world,  and 
we  know  there  is  not  the  remotest  corner  of  her 
territory  which  is  not  swarming  with  hundreds 
who  leave  no  means  untried  to  amass  their  for- 
tunes. I  have  no  desire  to  wrangle  and  grope  with 
them,  and  would  much  rather  seek  wealth  else- 
where." 

"But  where  else?" 

"  If  gold  exists  in  one  spot  on  the  Pacific  coast, 
it  is  right  to  suppose  it  exists  in  many  others,  and 
what  is  to  prevent  our  finding  it  ?  " 


ip  BILL  BIDDON,  TRAPPER, 

"  Have  you  thought  of  any  place  ?  " 

"  It  seems  to  me  that  in  Oregon,  among  the 
spurs  of  the  Rocky  Mountains,  there  must  be  fabu- 
lous quantities  of  the  precious  metal." 

'*  But  why  hasn't  it  been  found  ?  " 

"  Oregon  is  thinly  settled,  and  no  suspicion  has 
led  them  to  search  for  it." 

"  Well,  let  us  dream  upon  it." 

A  few  more  fagots  were  forthwith  heaped  upon 
the  fire,  and  then  we  lay  down  for  the  night's 
rest. 

My  companion  had  lain  but  a  minute,  when  he 
suddenly  sprang  to  his  feet,  and  exclaimed : 

"  Hurrah  for  Oregon !  " 

'*  Be  careful,"  I  admonished ;  "  your  indiscre- 
tion may  be  fatal.  That  wall  of  darkness  across 
the  river  looks  gloomy  and  threatening  enough  to 
me." 

"  It  does — ^hello  !    Fm  shot — no,  I  ain't,  neither." 

That  instant  the  report  of  a  rifle  burst  from  the 
other  bank,  and  the  bullet  whizzed  within  an  inch 
of  my  companion's  face. 

"  Heavens  1  are  we  attacked ! "  I  ejaculated, 
starting  back  from  the  fire. 

"  I  believe  so,"  replied  Nat,  cowering  behind 
me. 

We  listened  silently  and  fearfully,  but  heard  no 


BILL  tsiODON,  TRAPPER.  31 

more.  The  fire  smoldered  to  embers,  the  river  grew 
darker,  and  the  night,  moonless  and  cold,  settled 
upon  us.  But  no  sleep  visited  my  eyelids  that  night. 
Till  the  gray  dawn  of  morning  I  listened,  but  heard 
no  more. 


32 


MILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER. 


CHAPTER  II. 


A  NEW   FRIEND. 


As  the  light  of  morning  overspread  the  stream 
and  prairie,  I  felt  an  unspeakable  sense  of  relief. 
Not  a  moment  of  sleep  had  visited  me  that  night, 
although  Nat's  extreme  fear  toward  midnight  gave 
way  to  his  drowsiness,  and  he  slept  long  and  heavily. 

"  Come,  wake  up,  Nat !  ''  said  I,  shaking  him  as 
soon  as  I  saw  that  day  was  at  hand. 

"  How  ?  what's  the  matter  ?  "  said  he,  rubbing 
his  eyes,  and  gaping  confusedly  about  him. 

"  Day  is  at  hand,  and  we  must  be  on  our  way 


to  Oregfon." 


'fc.' 


He  hastily  rose,  and  we  commenced  our  simple 
preparations.  I  ran  up  the  river  bank,  and  swept 
the  prairie  to  the  south  of  us  to  satisfy  myself  that 
no  wandering  Indians  were  in  sight.  The  whole 
plain  was  visible,  and  with  a  feeling  akin  to  joy,  I 
reported  the  fact  to  Nat.     He,  however,  was  not 


BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER.  33 

satisfied  with  my  survey,  as  he  had  more  than  once 
before  detected  objects  that  had  escaped  my  vision, 
and  he  ascended  a  high  roll  in  the  bank,  some  dis- 
tance up,  and  took  a  long,  careful,  scrutinizing 
sweep  of  the  whole  horizon.  Feeling  satisfied  that 
he  would  be  no  more  rewarded  for  his  pains  than 
I  was,  I  started  the  fire,  and  commenced  cooking 
some  of  our  buffalo,  I  had  been  engaged  in  this 
for  a  minute  or  so,  when  I  heard  Nat  call,  in  a 
hoarse,  anxious,  half-whisper: 

"  Come  here,  quick !  " 

I  hurried  to  his  side  and  eagerly  asked  him  the 
cause  of  agitation. 

"  Why,  just  look  yonder,  if  that  ain't  enough  to 
agitate  one,  then  I  don't  know  what  is.'* 

He  pointed  across  the  river,  out  upon  the  prairie ; 
and  following  the  direction  of  his  finger,  I  saw  not 
more  than  a  mile  or  two  away  a  single  horseman 
proceeding  leisurely  from  us. 

"  Who  can  that  be  ?  "  I  asked  half  to  myself, 
still  watching  the  receding  figure. 

"  Why  he's  the  one  that  sent  that  bullet  across 
the  water  after  us,  and  I'm  thinking  it's  lucky  for 
him,  he's  going  another  way.  If  I  should  get  my 
hands  on  him,  he  would  remember  the  time.'* 


24  BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER. 

And  Nat  extended  his  arms  energetically,  and 
shook  his  head  spitefully  by  way  of  emphasizing 
his  remark. 

I  continued  gazing  after  the  unknown  person. 
At  first  I  supposed  it  was  an  Indian,  but  at  that 
distance,  and  with  his  back  toward  us,  it  was  al- 
most impossible  to  judge  accurately.  A  moment's 
thought  convinced  me  that  it  was  a  white  man.  I 
could  make  out  the  hunting-cap  of  the  trapper,,  and 
was  soon  satisfied  he  belonged  to  that  class.  His 
horse  was  walking  leisurely  along,  and  he  seemed 
totally  unaware  of  the  proximity  of  strangers. 

But  who  could  it  be?  Was  it  he  who  had  fired 
the  well-nigh  fatal  shot?  And  what  meant  his 
actions  in  thus  willfully  leaving  us?  These  and 
similar  questions  I  asked  myself,  without  taking 
my  eyes  from  him,  or  heeding  the  numerous  ques- 
tions and  remarks  my  companion  was  uttering. 
But,  of  course,  I  could  give  no  satisfactory  solu- 
tion, and  when  his  figure  had  grown  to  be  but  a 
dim  speck  in  the  '"Jistance,  I  turned  to  Nat. 

"  We  may  see  him  again ;  but,  if  I  don't  know 
him,  I  know  one  thing,  Fm  wonderfully  hungry 
just  now." 

We  partook  of  a  hearty  breakfast,  my  appetite 


BILL  BIDDON,  TRAPPER.  35 

for  which  was  considerably  weakened  by  the 
occurrence  just  narrated.  Without  much  difficuUy 
we  forded  the  Republican  Fork,  being  compelled 
only  to  swim  a  few  strokes  in  the  channel,  and 
reached  the  opposite  side,  with  dry  powder  and 
food. 

Here  we  made  a  careful  search  of  the  shore,  and 
ascertained  enough  to  settle  beyond  a  doubt  the 
identity  of  the  horseman  with  the  would-be  assas- 
sin of  the  night  before.  His  footprints  could  be 
seen,  and  the  place  where  he  had  slept  upon  the 
ground,  together  with  the  scraps  of  meat.  By  ex- 
amining the  tracks  of  his  horse,  we  discovered 
that  both  hind  feet  were  shod;  this  decided  our 
question  of  his  being  a  white  man;  and  although 
it  cleared  up  one  doubt,  left  us  in  a  greater  one. 
He  could  not  have  avoided  the  knowledge  that  we 
were  of  the  same  blood,  and  what  demoniacal  wish 
could  lead  him  to  seek  the  life  of  two  harmless 
wanderers?  Be  he  who  he  might,  it  was  with  no 
very  Christian  feelings  toward  him  that  we  took 
the  trail  of  his  horse,  and  pursued  it. 

Our  course  after  the  first  five  miles,  swerved 
considerably  to  the  northwest.  From  the  actions 
of  the  stranger,  it  was  evident  he  understood  the 


^6  BILL  BIDDON,  TRAPPER. 

character  of  the  country,  and  we  judged  the  short- 
est way  of  reaching  the  Oregon  trail  would  be  by 
following  him.  The  footprints  of  his  animal  were 
distinctly  marked,  and  we  had  no  difficulty  in  keep- 
ing them. 

At  noon  we  forded  a  stream,  and  shortly  after 
another,  both  considerably  less  than  the  Republican 
Fork.  On  the  northern  bank  of  the  latter,  were 
the  still  glowing  coals  of  the  stranger's  camp-fire, 
and  we  judged  he  could  be  at  no  great  distance. 
The  country  here  was  of  a  slightly  different  charac- 
ter from  the  rolling  prairie  over  which  we  had 
journeyed  thus  far.  There  were  hills  quite  eleva- 
ted, and,  now  and  then,  groves  of  timber.  In 
the  river  bottoms  were  numerous  cottonwoods 
and  elder;  these  natural  causes  so  obstructed  our 
view,  that  we  might  approach  our  unknown  enemy 
very  nigh  without  knowing  it.  Nat  was  quite 
nervous,  and  invariably  sheered  off  from  the  for- 
bidding groves  of  timber,  striking  the  trail  upon 
the  opposite  side  at  a  safe  distance. 

In  this  way  we  traveled  onward  through  the 
entire  day.  No  signs  of  Indians  were  seen,  and 
we  anticipated  little  trouble  from  them,  as  they 
were  friendly  at  this  time,  and  the  most  they  would 


BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER.  37 

do  would  be  to  rob  us  of  some  of  our  trinkets  or 
rifles. 

At  sundown  we  left  our  guiding  trail  and  struck 
off  toward  a  small  stream  to  camp  for  the  night. 
When  we  reached  it,  and  decided  upon  the  spot, 
Nat  remarked  seriously : 

"  I  say,  Relmond,  that  feller  might  be  near 
enough  to  give  us  another  shot  afore  morning,  and 
I'm  going  to  see  whether  his  trail  crosses  the  brook 
out  there  or  not." 

So  saying,  he  wheeled  and  ran  back  to  the  spot 
where  we  had  left  it.  It  was  still  bright  enough 
to  follow  it,  and  bending  his  head  down  to  keep  it 
in  view,  he  continued  upon  a  rapid  run.  I  was 
upon  the  point  of  warning  him  against  thus  run- 
ning into  danger,  but  not  feeling  much  apprehen- 
sion for  his  safety,  I  turned  my  back  toward  him. 
A  minute  after,  I  heard  his  footsteps  again,  and, 
looking  up,  saw  him  coming  with  full  speed  toward 
me,  his  eyes  dilated  to  their  utmost  extent,  and  with 
every  appearance  of  terror. 

"  He's  there !  "  he  exclaimed. 

"  Where  ?  "  I  asked,  catching  his  excitement. 

"  Just  across  the  stream  up  there ;  I  liked  to  have 
run  right  into  him  afore  I  knowed  it.    See  there ! " 


3d  BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER. 

As  Nat  spoke,  I  saw  the  glimmering  of  a  fire 
through  the  trees,  and  heard  the  whinny  of  a  horse. 

"Didn't  he  see  you?" 

"  Yes,  I  know  he  did.  When  I  splashed  into 
the  water  like  a  fool,  he  looked  up  at  me  and 
grunted;  I  seen  him  pick  up  his  rifle,  and  then  I 
put,  expecting  each  moment  to  feel  a  ball  in  me." 

"  I  thought  you  intended  laying  hands  on  him 
if  an  opportunity  offered,"  I  remarked,  with  a 
laugh. 

"  I  declare,  I  forgot  that,"  he  replied,  somewhat 
crestfallen. 

After  some  further  conversation,  I  decided  to 
make  the  acquaintance  of  the  person  who  had 
occupied  so  much  of  our  thoughts.  Nat  opposed 
this,  and  urged  me  to  get  farther  from  him ;  but  a 
meaning  hint  changed  his  views  at  once,  and  he 
readily  acquiesced.  He  would  not  be  prevailed 
upon,  however,  to  accompany  me,  but  promised  to 
come  to  my  aid  if  I  should  need  help  during  the 
interview.  So  leaving  him,  I  started  boldly  up  the 
stream. 

When  I  reached  the  point  opposite  the  stranger's 
camp-fire,  I  stumbled  and  coughed  .so  as  to  attract 
his  attention.     I  saw  him  raise  his  eyes  and  hur- 


BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER.  3^ 

riedly  scan  me,  but  he  gave  no  further  evidence  of 
anxiety,  and  I  unhesitatingly  sprang  across  the 
stream,  and  made  my  way  toward  him.  Before  I 
halted,  I  saw  that  he  was  a  trapper.  He  was  re- 
clining upon  the  ground,  before  a  small  fire,  and 
smoking  a  short  black  pipe,  in  a  sort  of  dreamy 
reverie. 

"  Good  evening,  my  friend,"  I  said,  cheerfully, 
approaching  within  a  few  feet  of  him.  He  raised 
his  eyes  a  moment,  and  then  suffered  them  lazily 
to  fall  again,  and  continue  their  vacant  stare  into 
the  fire.  "  Quite  a  pleasant  evening,"  I  continued, 
seating  myself  near  him. 

'*  Umph !  "  he  grunted,  removing  his  pipe,  and 
rising  to  the  upright  position.  He  looked  at  me  a 
second  with  a  pair  of  eyes  of  sharp,  glittering  black- 
ness, and  then  asked:     "  Chaw,  stranger  ?  " 

"  I  sometimes  use  the  weed,  but  not  in  that 
form,"  I  replied,  handing  a  piece  to  him.  He 
wrenched  off  a  huge  mouthful  with  a  vigorous 
twist  of  his  head,  and  returned  it  without  a  word. 
This  done,  he  sank  back  to  his  former  position 
and  reverie. 

"Excuse  me,  friend,"  said  I,  moving  rather  im- 
patiently, and  determined  to  force  a  conversation 


40  BILI    BIDDON,  TRAPPER. 

Upon  him,  "but  I  hope  you  will  permit  a  few 
questions  ?  " 

"  Go  ahead,  stranger,"  he  answered,  gruffly. 

"  Are  you  traveling  alone  in  this  section  ?  " 

"  I  reckon  I  ar',  'cept  the  hoss  which  'ar  a  team." 

"  Follow  trapping  and  hunting,  I  presume  ?  " 

"  What's  yer  handle,  stranger  ?  "  he  suddenly 
asked,  as  he  came  to  the  upright  position,  and  look- 
ing at  me  with  more  interest. 

"  William  Relmond,  from  New  Jersey." 

"Whar's  that  place?" 

"  It  is  one  of  the  Middle  States,  quite  a  distance 
from  here." 

"  What  mought  you  be  doin'   in  these  parts  ? " 

"  I  and  my  friend  out  yonder  are  on  our  way  to 
Oregon." 

"  Umph !  you're  pretty  green  'uns." 

"  Now  I  suppose  you  will  have  no  objection  to 
giving  me  your  name." 

"  My  handle's  Bill  Biddon,  and  I'm  on  my  way 
to  trappin'-grounds  up  country." 

"How   far   distant?" 

"  A  heap ;  somewhar  up  'bove  the  Yallerstone." 

"Do  you  generally  go  upon  these  journeys 
alone?" 


"  What's  your  handle,  stranger  ?  " 


BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER.  43 

"  Sometimes  I  does,  and  sometimes  I  doesn't." 
I  ceased  my  questions  for  a  few  moments,  for 
fear  of  provoking  him.  As  his  route,  as  far  as  it 
extended,  would  be  in  our  direction,  I  determined 
to  keep  his  company  if  I  could  gain  his  consent. 
He  was  a  splendid  specimen  of  the  physical  man. 
He  was  rather  short,  but  heavy  and  thick-set,  with 
a  com.pactness  of  frame  that  showed  a  terrible 
strength  slumbering  in  his  muscles.  His  face  was 
broad,  covered  by  a  thin,  straggling  beard  of 
grizzled  gray,  and  several  ridged  scars  were  visible 
in  different  parts  of  it.  His  brows  were  beetling 
and  lowering,  and  beneath  them  a  couple  of  black 
eyes  fairly  snapt  at  times  with  electric  fire.  His 
mouth  was  broad,  and  though  one  could  plainly 
see  a  whirlwind  of  terrific  passion  might  be  called 
into  life  within  his  breast,  yet  there  was,  also  in  his 
face,  the  index  of  a  heart  alive  to  good  humor  and 
frankness.  I  saw  that,  if  approached  skillfully,  his 
heart  could  be  reached.  He  was  evidently  the 
creature  of  odd  whims  and  fancies  and  caprice, 
feeling  as  well  satisfied  without  the  society  of 
his  fellow-man  as  with  it — one  of  those  strange 
beings,  a  hero  of  a  hundred  perils,  who  was  satis- 
fied to  lose  his  life  in  the  mighty  wilderness  of  the 


44  BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER. 

Far  West,  without  a  single  one  suspecting  or  car- 
ing for  his  fate. 

"  Would  you  have  any  objections  to  my  friend 
and  myself  accompanying  you,  that  is,  as  far  as 
you  should  proceed  in  our  direction  ?  " 

He  looked  steadily  at  me  a  moment,  and  an- 
swered, "  You  kin  go  with  me  ef  you  wants ;  but  I 
knows  as  how  you're  green,  and  yer  needn't  s'pose 
I'm  goin'  to  hold  in  fur  yer.  Yers  as  never  does 
that  thing." 

"  Oh,  I  shouldn't  expect  you  to.  Of  course,  we 
will  make  it  a  point  not  to  interfere  in  the  least  with 
your  plans  and  movements." 

"  Whar  is  yer  other  chap?  S'pose  it  war  him 
what  come  peakin'  through  yer  a  while  ago ;  had 
a  notion  of  spilin'  his  picter  fur  his  imper- 
dence." 

"  I  will  go  bring  him.,"  I  answered,  rising  and 
moving  off.  But  as  I  stepped  across  the  stream,  I 
discerned  the  top  of  Nat's  white  hat,  just  above 
a  small  box-elder ;  and  moving  on,  saw  his  eye  fixed 
with  an  eager  stare  upon  the  trapper. 

"  Don't  he  look  savage  ? "  he  whispered,  as  I 
came  to  him. 

"  Not  very.    Are  you  afraid  of  him  ?  " 

"  No ;  but  I  wonder    whether    he — whether    he 


BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER.  45 

knows    anything    about    the    old    mare    and    my 
knife." 

"  Perhaps  so ;  come  and  see.  He  just  now  asked 
for  you." 

"  Asked  for  me  ?  "  repeated  Nat,  stepping  back. 
"  What  does  he  want  of  me  ?  " 

"  Nothing  in  particular.  I  just  mentioned  your 
name,  and  he  asked  where  you  were.  Come  along ; 
I  hope  you  ain't  afraid  ?  " 

"  Afraid !  I  should  like  to  see  the  man  I'm  afraid 
of ! "  exclaimed  my  companion  in  an  almost  in- 
audible whisper,  as  he  tremblingly  followed  me 
across  the  brook,  and  to  the  spot  where  Biddon, 
the  trapper,  was  lying. 

"  My  friend,  Nathan  Todd,  Biddon." 

"  How  are  you  ?  Very  happy  to  make  your 
acquaintance,"  and  Nat  nervously  extended  his 
hand. 

**  How're  yer  ? "  grunted  Biddon,  with  a  slight 
jerk  of  his  head,  and  not  noticing  the  proffered 
hand. 

"  Been  a  most  exceedingly  beautiful  day,"  ven- 
tured Nat,  quickly  and  nervously. 

I  saw  the  trapper  was  not  particularly  impressed 
with  him,  and  I  took  up  the  conversation.  I  made 
several  unimportant  inquiries,  and  learned  in  the 
course  of  them,  that  our  friend.  Bill  Biddon,  was 


^5  -B^J^^  BIDDON,  TRAPPER, 

about  forty  years  of  age,  and  had  followed  trap- 
ping and  hunting  for  over  twenty  years.  He  was 
a  native  of  Missouri,  and  Westport  was  the  depot 
for  his  peltries.  For  the  last  two  or  three  years 
he  had  made  all  his  excursions  alone.  He  was 
quite  a  famous  trapper,  and  the  fur  company  which 
he  patronized  gave  him  a  fine  outfit  and  paid  him 
well  for  his  skins.  He  possessed  a  magnificently- 
mounted  rifle,  and  his  horse,  he  informed  me,  had 
few  superiors  among  the  fleetest  mustangs  of  the 
south.  Both  of  these  were  presented  him  by  the 
company  mentioned. 

"  Why  ain't  you  got  horses  ?  "  he  asked,  looking 
toward  me. 

"  They  were  both  stolen  from  us." 

"  I  don't  s'pose  you've  seen  anything  of  a  com- 
pany with  a  mare,  short-tailed,  that  limped  a  little, 
and  an  overcoat  that  had  a  knife  in  the  pocket  ?  " 
asked  Nat,  eagerly. 

"  Not  that  I  knows  on,"  answered  Biddon,  with 
a  twinkle  of  humor. 

I  gave  the  particulars  of  our  loss,  and  then  asked, 
without  due  thought: 

"  Did  you  not  camp  upon  the  banks  of  the 
Republican   Fork   last   night?" 

"  Yas ;  what'd  yer  want  to  know  fur  ?  " 

"  Oh,  nothing,  nothing,"  quickly  answered  Nat. 


BILL  BIDDON,  TRAPPER.         .  47 

I  believe  the  trapper  understood  my  allusion,  and 
I  hoped  he  would  give  an  explanation  of  his  act; 
but  he  made  no  reference  to  it,  and,  after  further 
conversation,  we  all  la)'  down  in  slumber. 


^g  BILL  BIDDON,  TRAPPBR. 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE   trapper's   STORY. 

I  WAS  aroused  from  my  slumber,  before  it  was 
yet  light,  by  Biddon  shaking  me  and  calling  in 
my  ear: 

"  Come,  you  chaps,  you've  got  only  two  minutes 
to  swaller  yer  feed  in." 

Nat  was  already  moving  about,  and  I  sprang  to 
my  feet,  determined  to  continue  in  my  friend's 
good  graces,  if  such  a  thing  were  possible,  by  a 
cheerful  acquiescence  in  all  his  reasonable  wishes. 
Our  fire  was  kindled,  a  hasty  breakfast  swallowed, 
and  just  as  the  sun  made  its  appearance  above 
the  prairie,  we  moved  off  toward  the  north.  , 

Long  before  noon  we  reached  the  Platte,  and 
forded  it  at  the  point  where  Fort  Grattan  now 
stands.  The  Platte,  during  the  winter  months,  is 
a  boisterous  stream  of  great  width,  but  in  summer 
it  is  very  shallow  (from  which  circumstance  it  de- 
rives its  name),  and  at  the  dry  season  it  almost 
ceases  running,  and  dwindles  down  to  an  innumer* 


BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER.  aq 

able  number  of  stagnant  pools.  As  It  was  now  the 
summer  season,  we  walked  over  without  more  than 
merely  wetting  our  shoes.  The  Oregon  trail  fol- 
lows the  northern  shore  of  this  stream  to  Washing- 
ton Territory,  or  to  what  was  Oregon  at  the  time 
of  which  I  write.  Leaving  the  Platte,  we  shaped 
our  course  toward  the  northwest,  so  as  to  strike 
the  southern  spur  of  the  Black  Hills.  From  Bid- 
don's  conversation,  I  found  that  his  destination 
was  the  neighborhood  of  the  head-waters  of  the 
Tongue  or  Powder  River,  which  have  their 
canons  in  the  Black  Hills. 

As  he  allowed  his  horse  to  proceed  upon  a  moder- 
ate walk,  we  had  no  trouble  in  keeping  him  com- 
pany. We  generally  started  at  the  first  indication 
of  morning,  halting  now  and  then  to  slake  our 
thirst  in  the  numerous  streams  which  crossed  our 
path,  and  resting  an  hour  at  noon.  At  sunset  we 
struck  camp  upon  some  small  stream,  cooked  our 
evening  meal,  spent  an  hour  or  two  in  smoking  and 
conversation,  and  turned  in  for  the  night. 

The  country  over  which  we  now  journeyed  was 
much  better  timbered  than  any  through  which  we 
had  yet  passed.  For  an  entire  day  after  crossing 
the  Platte,  we  met  with  thousands  of  the  ash,  elm, 
walnut,  and  cottonwood  trees.  The  bark  of  the 
latter,  I  was  surprised  to  observe,  was  greatly  rel- 


CO  BILL  BIDDON,  TRAPPER. 

ished  by  the  trapper's  horse,  he  often  preferring 
it  to  the  rich,  succulent  grass  which  so  abounds 
in  this  region.  Besides  this  there  were  signs  of  the 
buffalo,  antelope,  and  hundreds  of  other  animals. 

One  night  we  halted  upon  the  bank  of  a  large 
stream  some  miles  north  of  the  Platte,  which  emp- 
tied into  the  Missouri.  It  was  quite  broad  and 
rapid,  and  near  the  center  of  the  channel  a  small, 
sandy  island  was  visible.  We  passed  over  this 
while  fording  the  stream,  and  I  noticed  that  Biddon 
walked  around  it,  and  surveyed  several  spots  with 
more  than  com.mon  interest.  I  did  not  question 
him  then,  but  at  night,  when  we  were  stretched 
before  the  fire,  with  our  soothing  pipes,  I  ventured 
the  inquiry. 

"  I  seed  sights  on  that  chunk  of  mud  one  time," 
said  he,  with  a  dark  frown. 

"  What  was  it  ? — what  was  it  ?  "  asked  Nat, 
eagerly. 

"  Here's  as  what  don't  like  to  think  of  that  time, 
lugh !  "  he  answered,  seeming  still  unwilling  to  re- 
fer to  it. 

"  Why  not  ? "  I  asked,  beginning  to  partake  of 
Nat's  curiosity. 

"  It  makes  a  feller's  blood  bile ;  but,  howsom- 
ever,"  he  added,  brightening  up,  "  if  you  wants  to 
hear  it,  yer  kin." 


BILL  BIDDON,  TRAPPER.  5I 

"  We  do  by  all  means ;  please  give  it." 
*'  Yas,  that  ar'  war'  a  time  of  general  wipin'  out, 
and  this  yer  water  that  now  looks  as  black  as  a 
wolf's  mouth,  run  red  that  night!  It  war'  nigh 
onto  ten  year  ago  that  it  happened.  I  was  down 
in  Westport  one  day  in  the  summer  when  a  feller 
slapped  me  on  the  shoulder  and  axed  me  ef  I 
wanted  a  job.  I  tole  him  I  didn't  care  much,  but 
if  he's  a  mind  to  fork  over,  and  it  wan't  desprit 
hard,  and  too  much  like  work,  Fs  his  man.  He 
said  as  how  thar'  war'  a  lot  of  fellers  camped  out 
on  the  prairie,  as  war  gwine  to  start  for  Oregon, 
and  as  wanted  a  guide ;  and  heerin'  me  spoken  on  as 
suthin'  extronnery,  why  he  like  to  know  ef  I  would- 
n't go;  he'd  make  the  pay  all  right.  I  cut  around 
the  stump  awhile  and  at  last  'eluded  to  go.  I  went 
out  onto  the  perarie,  and  seed  the  company.  They 
were  men,  women,  and  children,  'specially  the  last 
ones.  I  seed  they  wanted  good  watchin',  and  I 
kinder  hinted  they'd  find  trouble  afore  they'd  reach 
Oregon, 

**  There  weren't  many  folks  trampin'  these  parts 
then,  and  them  as  did  go,  had  to  make  up  thar 
minds  to  see  fight  and  ha'r-raisin'.  B'ars  and 
beavers,  they  did!  The  reds  war  the  same  then 
all  over,  arter  you  get  clear  of  the  States,  and  no 
feller's  ha'c  war  his  own  till  he'd  lost  it. 


^  BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER. 

"  We  started  the  next  day,  and  struck  the  Platte 
afore  night.  There  war  but  twenty  good  men,  an' 
I  made  half  of  'em  stand  watch  that  night  just  to 
get  their  hands  in.  In  course  they  didn't  see  noth- 
in',  'cept  one  straddlin'  chap,  like  this  feller  yer 
that  is  called  Nat.  He  said  as  how  he  seed  won- 
ders, he  did,  and  thar  war  a  hundred  reds  crawl- 
in'  round  the  camp  all  night. 

"  We  went  purty  slow,  as  it  weren't  best  to 
hurry  the  teams;  but  we  hadn't  been  two  days  on 
the  way  afore  the  fools  got  into  the  all-firedest  scrab- 
ble I  ever  seed.  I  don't  know  what  it  come  'bout, 
but  it  war  so  big,  they  split  company,  and  part 
of  'em  crossed  over  and  camped  on  t'other  side 
the  Platte.  I  tole  'em  they'd  see  stars  purty  soon, 
if  they  didn't  splice  agin,  but  they's  too  rearin' 
to  do  it,  and  I  said  if  they's  a  mind  to  be  sich 
fools,  they  mought  be  fur  all  me,  and  I'd  let  'em 
go  on  alone.  Howsomever,  the  smallest  party 
hung  on  fur  me  not  to  leave  'em,  and  I  'eluded 
to  stay  with  •  'em  as  I  knowed  purty  well  they'd 
need  me  all  the  time. 

"  The  biggest  company  as  had  crossed  the  Platte, 
kept  on  by  it,  and  so  the  others  said  they'd  leave 
it  and  cut  across  fur  Oregon.  I  tole  'em  this  war 
the  best  way,  and  so  we  left  'em.  Them  I  war  with 
war  a  heap  the  smallest,  and  had  but  three  or  four 


BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER.  53 

men  and  five  or  six  women  and  children.  What 
made  things  look  wuss,  I  seed  'signs'  when  we 
parted,  and  I  knowed  purty  well  the  reds  smelt 
what  war  goin'  on.  And  'bout  a  dozen  times  in  the 
afternoon  I  could  see  'em  oif  on  the  perarie  stealin' 
long  and  dodgin'  through  cover.  I  knowed  that 
the  imps  were  follerin'  us,  seein'  the  other  war  a 
heap  more  powerful  nor  us. 

"  Things  got  so  dubersome  afore  night,  I  said 
to  the  men  ef  they'd  take  the  advice  of  a  feller  as 
knowed  what  he  war  'bout,  they'd  turn  round  and 
never  stop  till  they  cotched  the  others;  for  ef  they 
didn't,  they'd  cotch  it  at  night ;  reds  war  1x5Ut  them 
as  thick  as  flies.  They  said  how  ef  I's  'fraid  I 
mought  go  back,  but  as  for  them  they'd  go  through 
fire  and  blazes  'fore  they  would.  I  felt  riled  'nough 
at  this  to  leave  'em,  and  I  would  ef  it  hadn't  been 
fur  them  poor  women;  they  looked  so  sorrerful  I 
made  up  my  mind  to  stick  to  'em  fur  thar  sake. 

"  We  reached  the  stream  just  as  it  war  growing 
dark,  and  the  reds  had  got  so  sassy,  that  five  or  six 
of  'em  stood  a  little  ways  off  and  watched  us.  This 
scart  the  women  and  men,  and  they  axed  me  what 
war  to  be  done?  The  women  cried  and  wanted 
to  coax  the  In j ins  up  to  give  'em  sunkthin'  to  get 
thar  good  will,  but  they  war  cross  and  sulky,  and 
didn't  say  much. 


cj  BILL  BIDDON,  TRAPPER. 

"  After  some  talk  and  a  heap  of  cryin',  we  'eluded 
to  camp  on  that  piece  of  sand  in  the  river.  The 
teams  war  drew  over  and  we  follered.  The  water 
war  some  deeper  nor  now,  and  it  took  us  a  long 
time  to  land ;  but  we  got  over  at  last.  As  soon  as  we 
war  clean  over,  I  commenced  fixing  up  things  fur 
the  reds.  We  didn't  build  no  fire,  but  put  the  teams 
together  near  the  middle,  and  the  women  inside 
'em.  There  war  four  men  without  me,  and  I  set 
'em  round  the  place  to  watch  fur  sign.  I  made  'em 
all  squat  flat  down  on  the  mud  close  to  the  water, 
and  told  'em  to  blaze  away  at  anything  they 
seed,  ef  it  war  a  beaver  or  otter,  and  gave  'em 
pertickler  orders  not  to  wink  both  eyes  at  a  time. 
I  seed  they's  skerish,  and  there  weren't  no  danger 
of  thar  snoozin'  on  watch. 

"  I's  pretty  sartin  the  reds  would  come  some  of 
thar  tricks,  and  come  down  the  river ;  so  I  went  up 
to  the  upper  part  of  the  thing,  and  laid  in  the  mud 
myself  to  watch  fur  'em.  I  knowed,  too,  they 
wouldn't  be  'bout  'fore  purty  late,  so  I  took  a 
short  nap  as  I  laid  in  the  mud.  When  I  woke  up 
the  moon  war  up  in  the  sky,  and  the  river  had  riz 
so  my  pegs  war  in  the  water.  I  flapped  out,  but 
didn't  see  nothin'  yet.  I  sneaked  down  round  by 
t'other  fellers,  and  found  'em  all  wide  awake;  and 
they  said,  too,  as   how  they  hadn't  seen  nothin' 


BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER.  55 

'cept  the  river  war  gettin'  higher,  which  they  kinder 
thought  the  In j  ins  mought  've  done.  Jist  as  I  war 
going  back  I  heard  some  of  the  purtiest  singin' 
in  the  world.  Fust,  I  thought  it  war  an  Injin,  ef 
it  hadn't  been  so  nice ;  then  I  'eluded  it  must  be  an 
angel.  I  listened,  and  found  it  came  from  the 
wagons.  I  crept  up  and  seed  two  little  girls  all 
'lone  clus  by  the  wagons,  a  singin'  sunkthin'.  Shoot 
me!  ef  it  didn't  make  me  feel  watery  to  see  them.. 
The  moon  war  shinin'  down  through  the  flyin' 
clouds,  right  out  on  'em.  They  sot  with  their 
arms  round  each  other  and  war  bare-headed,  and 
ef  I  hadn't  knowed  'em  I'd  swore  they  were  angels 
sure.  I  axed  what  they  were  singin'  for,  and  they 
said  the  In  j  ins  war  goin'  to  come  after  'em  that 
night,  and  they  war  singin'  to  their  mother  in 
heaven  to  keep  'em  away.  Shoot  me !  when  one  of 
'em  throwed  her  little  white  arms  round  my  neck 
and  kissed  my  ugly  meat-trap,  I  couldn't  stand  it. 
I  went  up  to  my  place  again  and  lad  down  in  the 
mud. 

"  It  was  gettin'  colder,  and  the  wind  comin'  up, 
drew  the  white  clouds  'fore  the  moon,  makin'  it  all 
black.  But  when  it  come  out  agin  I  seed  sunkthin' 
comin'  down  the  river  that  looked  like  a  log.  I  dug 
down  deeper  into  the  mud,  and  set  my  peepers  on  it, 
fur  I  knowed  thar  war  sunkthin'  else  thar,  too.     It 


c5  BILL  BIDDON,  TRAPPER. 

come  right  on  and  struck  the  mud  a  little  ways 
from  me.  I  didn't  stir  'cept  to  kinder  loose  my 
knife.  The  log  stuck  a  minute,  and  then  swung 
round  and  went  down  the  river.  I  knowed  the  boys 
would  see  it,  and  I  didn't  leave  my  place.  Thinkin* 
as  how  this  war  only  sent  down  to  see  what  we'd 
do,  I  war  lookin'  fur  other  things,  when  I  heard  a 
noise  in  the  water,  and,  shoot  me,  ef  a  sneakin'  red 
didn't  come  up  out  of  the  water,  and  commence 
crawlin'  toward  whar  the  gals  war  singin'.  (Jist 
put  a  little  fodder  on  the  lire.)  " 

I  sprang  up  and  threw  on  some  fagots,  and  then 
seated  myself  and  anxiously  awaited  the  rest  of  his 
story.  He  put  away  his  pipe,  filled  his  mouth  with 
tobacco,  and,  after  several  annoying  delays,  re- 
sumed : 

''Thar  weren't  no  time  to  lose.  I  crept  'long 
behind  him  mighty  sly,  and  afore  he  knowed  it, 
come  down  spank  onto  him.  I  didn't  make  no 
noise  nor  he  either.  I  jist  grabbed  his  gullet  and 
finished  him  with  my  knife.  I  then  crawled  back 
agin,  and,  shoot  me,  ef  I  didn't  see  forty  logs 
comin'  down  on  us;  the  river  war  full  of  'em. 

"  I  jumped  up  and  hollered  to  the  other  fellers  to 
look  out.  They  came  up  aside  me  and  stood  ready, 
but  it  weren't  no  use.  'Fore  we  knowed  it,  I  seed 
over  forty  of  'em  'long  'side  us.    We  blazed  into  'em 


BILL  BIDDON,  TRAPPER.  57 

and  went  to  usin'  our  knives,  but  I  knowed  it 
wouldn't  do.  They  set  up  a  yell  and  pitched  fur 
the  wagons,  while  'bout  a  dozen  went  at  us.  The 
fust  thing  I  knowed  the  whole  four  boys  were  down 
and  thar  ha'r  raised,  and  the  women  screechin* 
murder.  It  made  me  desprit,  and  I  reckon  I  done 
some  tall  work  that  night.  Most  these  beauty  spots 
on  my  mug  come  from  that  scrimmage.  I  seed  a  red 
dart  by  me  with  that  little  gal  as  was  singin',  and 
cotched  a  dead  red's  gun  and  let  drive  at  him;  but 
the  gun  weren't  loaded,  and  so  the  devil  run  off 
with  her. 

*'  The  oxes  war  bellerin',  the  horses  snortin',  and 
the  tomahawks  stoppin'  the  women's  screams;  the 
redskins  war  howlin'  and  yellin'  like  all  mad,  and  as 
I  had  got  some  big  cuts  and  knocks,  I  'eluded  it 
best  to  move  quarters.  So  I  made  a  jump  for  the 
stream,  took  a  long  dive,  and  swam  for  the  shore. 
I  come  up  'bout  whar  you're  setting,  and  I  made  a 
heap  of  tracks  'fore  daylight  come." 

*'  And  did  you  never  hear  anything  of  the  chil- 
dren captured  upon  that  night  ?  " 

"  I  never  seed  'em  agin ;  but  I  come  'cross  a  chap 
at  Fort  Laramie  when  I  went  down  agin,  what  said 
he'd  seen  a  gal  'mong  some  the  redskins  up  in  these 
parts,  and  I've  thought  p'r'aps  it  mought  be  one  of 
'em,  and  agm  it  moughtn't." 


eg  BILL  BIDDON,  TRAPPER. 

"  Did  you  say  that  all  happened  out  there  ?  "  asked 
Nat,  jerking  his  thumb  toward  the  island  mentioned, 
without  turning  his  face. 

"  I  reckon  I  did." 

"Bet  there's  a  lot  of  In j ins  there  now!"  ex- 
claimed he,  turning  his  head  in  that  direction. 

"  Jist  as  like  as  not,"  returned  Biddon,  with  a  sly 
look  at  me. 

"  I'm  goin'  to  sleep  then,"  and  rolling  himself  up 
in  his  buffalo-blanket,  all  but  his  feet,  disappeared 
from  view. 

*'  It's  'bout  time  to  snooze,  I  think,"  remarked  the 
trapper,  in  a  lower  tone,  turning  toward  me. 

"  I  think  so,  but  I  suppose  there  need  be  no  appre- 
hension of  molestation  from  Injins,  need  there?" 

Biddon  looked  at  me  a  moment ;  then  one  side  of 
his  mouth  expanded  into  a  broad  grin,  and  he 
quietly  remarked: 

"  Times  are  different   from  what  they  used  to 


war." 


"  Biddon,"  said  I,  after  a  moment's  silence,  "  be- 
fore we  saw  you  we  camp'^d  upon  one  side  of  a 
stream  while  you  were  upon  the  other.  Now,  I  do 
not  suppose  you  would  willfully  harm  a  stranger; 
but  since  I  have  met  you,  I  have  a  great  deaire  to 
know  why  you  fired  that  shot  at  Nat.  You  sup- 
posed we  were  Indians,  I  presume  ?  " 


BILL  BID  DON,   TRAPPER. 


59 


A  quiet  smile  illumined  the  trapper's  swarthy 
visage ;  and,  after  waiting  a  moment,  he  answered : 

**  The  way  on  it  war  this :  I  seed  you  and  Nat 
camping  there,  and  I  s'pected  you  war  gwine  to 
tramp  these  parts.  I  watched  you  awhile,  and  was 
gwine  to  sing  out  for  you  to  come  over.  Then  said 
I,  '  Biddon,  you  dog,  ain't  there  a  chance  to  give 
them  a  powerful  scare.'  First  I  drawed  bead  on 
you,  but  when  that  Nat  jumped  up,  I  let  fly  at  him, 
and  he  kerflummuxed  splendid.  Howsumever,  it's 
time  to  snooze,  and  I'm  in  for  it." 

With  this,  we  wrapped  our  blankets  around  us, 
and  in  a  few  moments  were  asleep. 

On  a  clear  summer  morning,  w^e  sallied  out  upon 
the  broad,  open  prairie  again.  The  trapper  now 
struck  a  direction  nearly  due  northwest  toward  the 
Black  Hills,  and  we  proceeded  with  greater  speed 
than  before.  The  face  of  the  country  began  to 
change  materially.  Vast  groves  of  timber  met  the 
eye,  and  the  soil  became  rich  and  productive.  At 
noon  we  encountered  the  most  immense  drove  of 
buffaloes  that  I  ever  witnessed.  They  were  to  the 
west  of  us,  and  proceeding  in  a  southern  direction, 
cropping  the  grass  clean  as  they  went.  Far  away, 
as  far  as  the  vision  could  reach,  nothing  but  a  sea 
of  black  moving  bodies  could  be  distinguished.  I 
aiounted  a  small  knoll  to  ascertain  the  size  of  the 


6o  BI^^  BIDDON,  TRAPPER, 

drove;  but  only  gained  a  clearer  idea  of  their 
enormous  number.  The  whole  western  horizon, 
from  the  extreme  northwest  to  the  southwest,  was 
occupied  solely  by  them,  and  nothing  else  met  the 
eye.  They  were  not  under  way,  and  yet  the  whole 
mass  was  moving  slowly  onward.  The  head  buf- 
faloes would  seize  a  mouthful  of  grass,  and  then 
move  on  a  few  feet  and  grasp  another.  Those 
behind  did  the  same,  and  the  whole  number  were 
proceeding  in  this  manner.  This  constant  change 
of  their  position  gave  an  appearance  to  them,  as 
viewed  from  my  standing-point,  similar  to  the  long 
heaving  of  the  sea  after  a  violent  storm.  It  was 
truly  a  magnificent  spectacle. 

We  approached  within  a  short  distance.  They 
were  more  scattered  upon  the  outside,  and  with  a 
little  trouble  the  trapper  managed  to  insinuate  him- 
self among  them.  His  object  was  to  drive  off  a  cow 
which  had  a  couple  of  half-grown  calves  by  her 
side,  but  they  took  the  alarm  too  soon,  and  rushed 
off  into  the  drove.  We  then  prepared  to  bring 
down  one  apiece.  I  selected  an  enormous  bull,  and 
sighted  for  his  head.  I  approached  nigh  enough 
to  make  my  aim  sure,  and  fired.  The  animal  raised 
his  head,  his  mouth  full  of  grass,  and  glaring  at  me 
a  moment,  gave  a  snort  of  alarm  and  plunged  head-- 
long  away  into  the  droves.    At  the  same  instant  I 


"  Gave  a  snort  of  alarm  and  plunged  headlong  away  into 
the  droves." 


BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER.  5^ 

heard  Nat's  rifle  beside  me,  and  a  moment  after 
that  of  the  trapper.  This  gave  the  alarm  to  the 
herd.  Those  near  us  uttered  a  series  of  snorts,  and 
dropping  their  bushy  heads,  bowled  off  at  a  terrific 
rate.  The  motion  was  rapidly  communicated  to  the 
others,  and  in  a  few  seconds  the  whole  eastern  side 
was  rolling  simultaneously  onward,  like  the  violent 
countercurrent  of  the  sea.  The  air  was  filled  with 
such  a  vast  cloud  of  dust  that  the  sun's  light  was 
darkened,  and  for  a  time  it  seemed  we  should  suffo- 
cate. We  remained  in  our  places  for  over  an  hour, 
when  the  last  of  these  prairie  monsters  thundered 
by.  A  strong  w^ind  carried  the  dust  off  to  the  west, 
and  we  were  at  last  in  clear  air  again.  Yet  our  ap- 
pearance was  materially  changed,  for  a  thin  veil  of 
yellow  dust  had  settled  over  and  completely  en- 
veloped us,  and  we  were  like  walking  figures  of 
clay. 

I  looked  away  in  the  direction  of  the  herd,  ex- 
pecting to  see  my  buffalo's  lifeless  form,  but  was 
considerably  chagrined  at  my  disappointment,  as 
was  also  Nat  at  his.  The  trapper's  was  a  dozen 
yards  from  where  it  had  been  struck. 

"  'Pears  to  me,"  said  he  with  a  sly  smile,  "  I 
heer'n  your  dogs  bark,  but  I  don't  see  nothin*  of  no 
buffaloes,  ogh ! " 


54  BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER. 

"  I  his  mine,"  I  answered  quickly ;  "  I  am  sure  of 
it." 

"Whereabouts?" 

"  In  the  head,  plump  and  square." 

"  Whar'd  you  sight  yourn,  Greeny  ?  " 

"  Just  back  the  horns,  and  I  hit  him  too.  If  he 
hasn't  dropped  before  this,  I'll  bet  he'll  have  the 
headache  for  a  week." 

"  B'ars  and  beavers,  you !  Them  bufflers  didn't 
mind  your  shots  more  nor  a  couple  of  hailstones. 
Do  you  see  whar  I  picked  mine  ?  "  asked  the  trap- 
per, pulling  the  buffalo's  fore-leg  forward,  and  dis- 
closing the  track  of  the  bullet  behind  it. 

"  Isn't  a  shot  in  the  head  fatal  ?  "  I  asked  in  as- 
tonishment. 

"  You  might  hit  'em  thar  with  a  cannon-ball,  and 
they*d  git  up  and  run  agin,  and  ef  yoii'd  pepper  'em 
all  day  whar  you  did  yourn,  you'd  pick  the  bullets 
out  thar  ha'r  and  they  wouldn't  mind  it." 

This  I  afterward  found  to  be  true.  No  shot, 
however  well  aimed,  can  reach  the  seat  of  life  in 
the  buffalo  through  the  head,  unless  it  enter  the  eye, 
fair  front.* 

The  trapper's  bufiFalo  was  thrown  forward  upon 

*  I  may  further  remark,  that  the  buffalo  slain  by  us  when  lost 
upon  the  prairie,  was  shot  in  the  side  as  he  wheeled  to  run  from 
ui,  \vithout  our  suspecting  it  was  the  only  place  in  which  we  coul^ 
have  given  him  a  mortal  wound. 


BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER.  65 

his  face,  his  legs  bent  beneath  him,  and  dressed 
after  the  usual  fashion.  He  was  in  good  condition, 
and  we  had  a  rich  feast  upon  his  carcass.  The  trap- 
per selected  a  few  choice  portions  from  the  inside, 
relished  only  by  himself,  and  cutting  several  huge 
pieces  for  future  use,  the  rest  was  left  for  the 
beasts  of  prey. 

We  proceeded  but  a  few  miles  further,  and  en- 
camped upon  the  banks  of  the  Dry  Fork.  This  is  a 
small  stream,  a  few  miles  south  of  the  Black  Hills. 
There  was  but  a  foot  or  two  of  sluggish  water,  and 
in  the  hot  season  it  was  often  perfectly  dry.  Here 
for  the  first  time  I  was  made  aware  of  the  change- 
able character  of  the  climate  in  this  latitude.  The 
weather,  thus  far,  had  been  remarkably  clear  and 
fine,  and  at  noon  we  found  the  weather  sometimes 
oppressively  warm.  Toward  night  the  wind  veered 
around  to  the  northwest,  and  grew  colder.  At 
nightfall,  when  we  kindled  our  fire,  the  air  was  so 
chilly  and  cutting  that  Nat  and  I  were  in  a  shiver. 
Had  it  not  been  for  our  blankets  we  should  have 
suffered  considerably,  though  Biddon  did  not  call 
his  into  requisition.  There  were  a  number  of  Cot- 
tonwood trees  near  at  hand,  which  served  partly  to 
screen  us  from  the  blast. 

After  our  evening  meal  had  been  cooked,  Biddon 
remarked : 


g5  BILL  BIDDON,  TRAPPER. 

"  The  fire  must  go  out,  boys." 

"  Why  ?     Do  you  apprehend  danger  ?  "  I  asked. 

"Don't  know  as  I  do;  I  hain't  seed  signs,  but 
we're  gittin'  into  parts  whar  we've  got  to  be  summat 
skeerish." 

"  I  suppose  it's  about  time  for  the  Indians  to 
come  ?  "  remarked  Nat  interrogatively,  with  a  look 
of  fear  toward  the  trapper. 

"  They're  'bout  these  parts.  Me'n  Jack  Javin 
once  got  into  a  scrimmage  yer  with  'em,  when  we 
didn't  'spect  it,  and  jist  'cause  we  let  our  fire  burn 
while  we  snoozed.  I'd  seen  sign  though  then,  and 
wanted  to  put  it  out,  but  he  wan't  afeared." 

"  Let's  have  ours  out  then,"  exclaimed  Nat  ex- 
citedly, springing  up  and  scattering  the  brands 
around. 

"  Needn't  mind  'bout  that ;  it'll  go  out  soon 
enough." 

As  Nat  reseated  himself,  Biddon  continued : 

"You  see,  Jarsey,  them  reds  kin  smell  a  white 
man's  fire  a  good  way  off,  and  on  sich  a  night  as 
this,  ef  they're  'bout  they'll  be  bound  to  give  him  a 
call.  You  needn't  be  afeared,  howsumever,  to 
snooze,  'cause  they  won't  be  'bout." 

It  was  too  cold  to  enjoy  our  pipes,  and  we  all 
bundled  up  for  the  night's  rest.  In  a  few  moments 
I  heard  the  trapper's  deep  breathing,  and  shortly 


BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER.  67 

after  Nat  joined  him  in  sleep.  But  I  found  it  im- 
possible to  get  to  sleep  myself.  The  ground  was 
so  cold  that  my  blanket  could  not  protect  me,  and 
the  cutting  wind  was  terrible.  I  used  every  means 
that  I  could  devise,  but  it  was  of  no  use,  and  I 
feared  I  should  be  compelled  to  either  build  the  fire 
again,  or  to  continue  walking  all  night  to  prevent 
freezing  to  death, 

I  chose  the  latter  expedient.  It  was  quite  dark, 
yet  I  had  noticed  our  situation  well  enough,  I 
judged,  not  to  lose  it.  So  grasping  my  blanket  in 
my  hand,  I  started  on  a  rapid  run  directly  over  the 
prairie.  I  continued  a  long  distance,  until  pretty 
well  exhausted.  I  turned  to  retrace  my  steps.  My 
blood  was  warming  with  the  exercise,  and  I  hurried 
forward,  counting  upon  sound  sleep  for  the  remain- 
der of  the  night. 

I  continued  my  run  for  a  full  half  hour,  and  then 
stopped  in  amazement,  as  I  saw  no  signs  of  my  com- 
panions. Thinking  I  must  have  passed  the  spot 
where  they  were  lying,  I  carefully  walked  back 
again,  but  still  without  discovering  the  men.  I  had 
lost  them  in  the  darkness,  and  it  was  useless  to  hunt 
them  at  night  So  I  concluded  to  wait  till  morning, 
feeling  sure  that  they  could  be  at  no  great  distance. 


58  BILL  BIDDON,  TRAPPER. 

I  now  commenced  searching  for  a  suitable  place  for 
myself,  and  at  last  hit  upon  a  small  depression  in  the 
prairie.  There  was  a  large  stone  imbedded  in  the 
earth  on  one  side,  which  served  to  protect  me  from 
the  chilling  wind.  As  I  nestled  down,  beside  this, 
such  a  feeling  of  warmth  and  comfort  came  over  me 
that  I  congratulated  myself  upon  what  at  first 
seemed  a  misfortune. 

Lying  thus,  just  on  the  verge  of  sleep,  my  nerves 
painfully  alive  to  the  slightest  sound,  I  suddenly 
/elt  a  trembling  of  the  ground.  At  first  it  seemed  a 
dream ;  but,  as  I  became  fully  awake,  I  started  in 
terror  and  listened.  I  raised  my  head,  but  heard  no 
sound,  and  still  in  the  most  perplexing  wonder  sank 
down  again,  hoping  it  would  shortly  cease.  But 
there  was  a  steady,  regular  increase,  and  presently  I 
distinguished  millions  of  faint  tremblings,  like  the 
distant  mutterings  of  thunder.  Gradually  these 
grew  plainer  and  more  distinct,  and  finally  I  could 
distinguish  sounds  like  the  tread  of  innumerable 
feet  upon  the  prairie.  Still  at  a  loss  to  account  for 
this  strange  occurrence,  I  listened,  every  nerve  m 
my  body  strung  to  its  highest  tension.  Still  louder 
and  louder  grew  the  approaching  thunder,  and 
every  second  the  jar  of  the  earth  became  more  per 


BILL  BIDDON,  TRAPPER.  6g 

ceptible.     Suddenly  the  truth  flashed  upon  mt—a 
herd  of  buffaloes  were  approaching. 

Terror  for  an  instant  held  me  dumb  when  I 
realized  this  awful  danger.  My  f  rst  resolve  was  to 
rush  forth  and  warn  Nat  and  B.  don;  but  I  re- 
flected that  they  must  have  been  awakened,  ere  this, 
and  that  I  could  do  nothing  to  ward  off  the  peril 
which  threatened  all  alike.  Springing  to  my  feet, 
I  paused  a  second  to  collect  my  tumultuous 
thoughts.  Could  I  reach  the  timber,  I  could  ascend 
a  tree  and  be  beyond  danger ;  but  I  knew  not  what 
direction  to  take,  and  there  was  no  time  to  spare. 
To  remain  still  was  to  be  trampled  to  death;  to 
rush  away  could  save  me  but  a  few  moments  longer. 
God  of  heaven !  what  a  death ! 

Louder  and  louder  grew  the  thundering  tread  of 
the  animals,  and  I  stood  like  a  madman,  the  cold 
sweat  pouring  off  me,  tormented  by  a  thousand 
agonizing  thoughts,  and  expecting  death  each  mo- 
ment! Nearer  and  nearer  came  the  rattle  of  the 
clamping  hoofs,  and  I  stood  rooted  to  the  spot! 

Sinking  on  my  knees,  I  implored  mercy  of  the 
One  who  could  give  it  in  this  moment  of  dire  neces- 
sity ;  and  while  on  my  knees  the  means  of  preserva- 
tion presented  itself. 


70  BILL  BIDDON,  TRAPPER. 

"  Strange !  "  I  exclaimed,  breathing  deeply,  "  that 
I  did  not  think  of  it  before." 

I  have  said  that  I  was  in  a  sort  of  depression  or 
hollow  in  the  ea^-'^h,  and  that  a  large  stone  was  im- 
bedded on  on*"  .de.  Now  a  safer  and  more  secure 
shelter  couk'  lot  have  been  found  in  this  emergency. 
I  wrapped  my  blanket  around  me,  and  crept  as  far 
beneath  it  as  I  could,  and  I  was  saved  1 

A  few  minutes  later,  and  a  dark  body  plunged 
headlong  over  me  with  the  rapidity  of  lightning, 
followed  instantly  by  another  and  another,  and  I 
knew  the  herd  were  thundering  past.  For  a  long 
time  I  lay  there,  beneath  these  thousands  of  feet, 
one  of  which  would  have  been  sufficient  to  kill  me. 
The  incessant  crackling  of  their  hoofs,  and  rattling 
of  their  horns,  sounded  like  the  discharge  of 
musketry.  Once  a  ponderous  body  tumbled  over 
the  rock  which  sheltered  me,  and  I  caught  sight  of 
a  dark,  writhing,  bellowing  mass,  and  the  next  in- 
stant it  regained  its  feet  and  disappeared. 

It  must  have  been  an  hour  that  I  lay  here,  ere  the 
last  animal  leaped  over  me.  Then  I  looked  up  and 
saw  the  stars  shining  overhead.  My  joy  at  the  sight 
of  those  glittering  orbs  cannot  be  expressed.  I 
arose  to  my  feet,  and  looked  about  me.  It  was 
too  dark  to  discern  objects,  yet  I  could  hear  the 
rapidly  retreating  footfalls  of  the  herd  in  the  dis- 


BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER. 


71 


tance,  and  I  knew  I  had  been  saved  from  a  frightful 
death.  Sinking  to  the  earth  I  offered  a  sincere 
prayer  of  gratitude  to  the  Almighty  for  his  miracu- 
lous preservation  of  my  Hfel 


72  SILL  BIDDON,  TRAPPER. 


CHAPTER  IV. 


THE  TRAPPING  GROUNDS. 


I  WAS  agreeably  surprised  upon  waking  to  see 
Nat  standing  within  a  few  feet,  holding  two  horses 
by  the  bridle. 

"  Which  one  will  you  choose  ?  "  he  asked  with  a 
broad  smile. 

"  How  did  you  come  by  them  ?  "  asked  I. 

"  I  s*pose  it  must  have  been  about  the  time  you 
left  us  last  night,  that  Biddon  woke  me  up,  and  told 
me  to  follow  him,  as  there  was  a  powerful  chance 
to  get  a  couple  of  bosses  for  you  and  me.  I  asked 
him  where  you  could  be,  and  he  said  he  s'posed 
you'd  gone  further  up-stream  to  sleep  by  yourself, 
though  he  hadn't  seen  you  go.  Howsumever,  we 
wasn't  worried,  as  we  thought  you  were  old  enough 
to  take  care  of  yourself,  so  we  started  down  the  bed 
of  the  stream.  We  went  about  half  a  mile,  when 
Biddon  showed  me  a  small  camp-fire,  burned  down 
to  a  few  coals  and  ashes ;  but  there  was  enough  light 
to  show  us  two  bosses  picketed  a  few  yards  away, 


BILL  BIDDON,  TRAPPER.  73 

and  we  seen  the  feet  of  a  couple  of  redskins  turned 
toward  the  fire.     Biddon  said  as  how  they  was  a 
couple  of  hunters,  sound  asleep,  and  we  might  bor- 
row their  horses,  if  I  didn't  make  too  much  noise. 
He  told  me  to  stand  still,  and  keep  my  gun  pointed 
at  them,  and  the  minute  one  stirred  to  shoot  him, 
and  then  rush  in,  and  dispatch  the  other.     I  prom- 
ised to  do  so,  and  he  stole  around  to  the  hosses  on 
his  hands  and  knees.     He  had  cut  both  the  lariats 
and  was  leading  them  away,  when  one  of  the  Indi- 
ans raised  his  head  and  looked  around,  and  as  soon 
as  he  seen  the  hosses  moving  off,  give  a  grunt  and 
jumped  up  and  ran  toward  them.    I  remembered  it 
was  my  duty  to  shoot,  and  as  the  Indian  was  run- 
ning purty  fast,  I  aimed  about  ten  feet  ahead  of  him, 
supposing,  of  course,  the  villain  would  git  there  as 
soon  as  the  bullet  did;  but,  I'll  be  hanged   if  he 
wasn't  mean  enough  to  stop,  and  let  the  bullet  be 
wasted.    My  gun  kicked  like  blazes,  and  the  Ingins 
I  s'pose  thought  a  whole  tribe  was  upon  them ;  for 
setting  up  a  great  howl,  they  skooted  off  in  the 
darkness,  leaving  us  alone  with  the  animals.    Run- 
ning back,  I  overtook  Biddon,  who  was  riding  along 
as  though  nothing  had  happened.     He  asked  me  to 
ride  and  of  course  I  jumped  on,  and  here  I  am. 
But  which  boss  do  you  want  ?  " 
"  I  do  not  see  as  there  is  much  room  for  choice," 


74  BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER. 

I  replied;  ''both  are  splendid  animals,  and  a  most 
opportune  blessing." 

"  If  it's  all  the  same  to  you,  this  gentleman  is 
mine ;  "  and  handing  the  bridle  to  me,  he  vaulted 
upon  the  other.  The  latter  was  a  magnificent  Indian 
pony,  of  a  deep  bay  color,  probably  captured  when 
very  young,  and  high  spirited  and  fiery.  Botli  miani- 
fested  considerable  uneasiness,  knowing  they  were 
in  the  hands  of  strangers,  and  Nat's  made  one  or 
two  efforts  to  dislodge  him;  but  he  was  a  good 
horseman,  and  maintained  his  place  with  apparent 
ease  despite  the  struggles,  which  were  frantic  and 
desperate  at  first.  Mine  was  somewhat  larger,  of  a 
coal-black  color,  and  with  as  much  spirit  and  fire  as 
^he  other,  but  in  a  few  moments  we  had  them  both 
t:nder  perfect  control. 

Besides  these  two  animals,  we  gained  two  fine 
Indian  saddles,  and  were  now  as  well  mounted  as 
we  could  wish.  Nat  remarked,  that  when  the 
buffaloes  thundered  by  he  felt  some  apprehension 
for  me,  but  the  trapper  expressed  none,  saying  that 
I  would  be  found  all  right  in  the  morning.  As  soon 
as  there  was  light,  Nat  commenced  searching  the 
bed  of  the  stream  for  me,  and  failing  in  this,  he 
climbed  a  tree  and  took  a  survey  of  the  prairie  on 
both  sides.  From  his  elevation  he  discovered  what 
he  believed  to  be  my  dead  body ;  and,  accompanied 


BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER.  yr 

by  Bidden  and  the  horses,  hastened  toward  me. 
Upon  reaching  me,  they  understood  instantly  the 
whole  matter,  and  it  was  their  loud  laughter  that 
had  aroused  me. 

We  were  now  pretty  far  to  the  northwest  of 
Nebraska  Territory.  The  face  of  the  country  was 
materially  different,  and  I  began  to  notice  a  change 
of  temperature.  The  summer  had  just  closed,  and 
the  early  autumn  was  like  the  approach  of  winter. 
The  nights  were  cool  and  chilling,  and  the  days 
generally  mild  at  noon,  but  often  keen  and  exhil- 
arating. The  prairie  was  mostly  of  the  rolling  kind, 
but  the  belts  of  timber  were  more  common,  and  the 
vegetation  richer  and  more  exuberant.  It  was 
plain,  too,  that  we  were  journeying  into  a  section 
where  the  foot  of  civilization  had  not  been.  The 
vast,  undulating  swell  of  the  prairie,  the  mighty 
fields  of  verdure,  and  the  broad  rivers  and  streams, 
bore  only  the  marks  of  the  red  man  and  wild  beast. 

Toward  noon,  Nat  descried  a  solitary  antelope 
far  ahead.  It  was  near  a  grove  of  timber,  from 
which  it  had  just  wandered,  and  stood  gazing  won- 
deringly  at  our  approach.  We  rode  on  in  silence 
for  some  time,  when  Biddon  raised  his  hand  for  us 
to  halt. 

"  What  do  you  intend  doing  ?  "  I  asked. 


76  BILL  BIDDON,  TRAPPER. 

"Jes'  hold  on  and  see,"  he  replied,  as  he  dis- 
mounted. 

He  made  a  circuit,  skirting  the  prairie,  so  as  to 
reach  the  grove  mentioned  upon  the  opposite  side 
from  the  antelope.  I  still  was  at  a  loss  to  understand 
his  intention,  as  the  animal  was  too  distant  from  the 
timber  to  be  brought  down  with  a  rifle-shot  from 
that  point. 

"What  under  the  sun  does  he  intend  doing?"  I 
asked,  turning  to  Nat. 

"  Guess  he's  getting  off  there  to  shoot  us." 

On  the  outer  edge  of  the  grove,  next  to  the  ante- 
lope, I  saw  him  emerge,  holding  a  stick  over  his 
head,  to  which  was  affixed  a  handkerchief  or  rag. 
He  walked  a  short  distance,  and  then  lay  down  flat 
upon  the  prairie,  perfectly  concealed  in  the  grass. 
The  rag  was  visible,  fluttering  above  him.  I  now 
watched  the  motions  of  the  antelope.  He  stood 
gazing  at  us,  until  the  trapper  came  into  view, 
when,  with  a  startled  glance  at  him,  he  wheeled  and 
ran.  In  a  moment,  however,  he  paused  and  turned 
quickly  around.  His  looks  were  now  fixed  upon 
the  fluttering  signal.  He  stood  motionless  a  mo- 
ment, and  then  cautiously  lifting  his  foot,  made  a 
step  toward  it.  Thus  he  continued  to  approach, 
step  by  step,  with  apparent  fear,  and  yet  evidently 
impelled  by  an  ungovernable  curiosity,  until  he  was 


BILL  BIDDON,  TRAPPER.  77 

scarce  a  hundred  yards  distant  from  the  prostrate 
form  of  the  trapper.  Still  he  was  rrkoving  stealthily 
onward,  when  suddenly  a  red  tongue  of  fire  spouted 
from  the  grass,  and,  as  the  sharp  crack  of  Biddon*s 
rifle  reached  us,  we  saw  the  antelope  give  a  wild 
leap  into  the  air,  and,  bounding  a  short  distance, 
fall  to  the  ground.  The  trapper  immediately  sprang 
to  his  feet  and  hastened  to  the  fallen  animal. 

"  Let  us  ride  to  him,"  said  I,  walking  my  horse 
onward. 

We  had  ridden  a  short  distance  when  Nat  halted 
and  asked : 

"What's  got  into  Biddon?     Just  look  at  him!" 

I  did  look  up,  and  for  a  moment  believed  the  man 
had  turned  crazy.  He  had  seen  us  approaching, 
and  was  now  making  furious  gesticulations  toward 
us.     I  watched  him  a  moment,  and  then  remarked : 

**  He  is  either  signaling  for  us  to  come  on  or  to 
stop." 

"  He  means  us  to  wait,  I  guess,  and  we  had  better 
pause  until  he  returns." 

We  reined  in  our  horses  and  watched  him.  He 
was  apparently  satisfied  with  our  stopping,  and 
stooped  and  commenced  working  at  the  animal.  In 
a  few  momente  he  arose,  and  slinging  a  huge  piece 
on  his  shoulder,  made  his  way  into  the  grove. 
From  this  he  emerged  in  due  time,  and  made  his 


^8  BILL  BIDDON,  TRAPPER. 

way  toward  us,  motioning,  meanwhile,  for  us  to 
remain  in  our  places. 

"  Why  didn't  you  wish  us  to  approach  ?  "  I  asked, 
as  soon  as  he  came  within  speaking  distance. 

He  made  no  answer,  but  throwing  his  meat  upon 
the  ground,  hastily  mounted  his  horse.  Then  he 
spoke  in  a  deep  whisper: 

"  Boys,  did  you  'spose  there's  over  twenty  red- 
skins among  them  trees  ?  " 

"  Heavens !  it  isn't  possible  ?  "  I  exclaimed,  catch- 
ing my  breath. 

"  It's  so ;  I  seed  'em,  and  thar  eyes  are  on  us  this 
minute.  They're  waitin'  for  us  to  go  on,  an'  they'll 
give  us  thunder  and  lightnin'." 

"  What's  to  be  done  ?  "  queried  Nat. 

"Jes*  keep  still,  an'  don't  kick  up,  or  they'll  see 
it.  We've  got  to  make  a  run  for  it.  Keep  close  to 
me,  and  when  I  start,  let  your  horses  went." 

"  But  the  meat  ?  "  I  hurriedly  asked. 

"  Can't  take  it.  We  have  a  long  run,  an'  our 
our  horses  won't  want  to  carry  no  extra  load.  I 
didn't  see  thar  animals,  but  I  guess  they  ain't 
mounted.     Ready !  " 

With  this,  Biddon  wheeled  his  horse  quickly 
around,  and  vanished  from  his  place  with  the  speed 
of  lightning,  while  ours  almost  smultaneously  shot 
ahead  like  an  arrow.    An  instant  after,  I  heard  the 


"  Looking  back  saw  a  host  of  savage  forms/' 


BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER.  gj 

faint  discharge  of  guns,  and,  looking  back,  saw  a 
host  of  savage  forms  pouring  hastily  from  the 
timber. 

"  No  need  of  hurrying.  They  are  not  mounted," 
I  called  out  to  Nat,  who  has  hurrying  his  horse  to 
the  utmost. 

"  I  don't  believe  it,"  he  exclaimed,  still  speeding 
furiously  onward. 

"  Go  it,  Todd !  you'll  fetch  up  at  Fort  Laramie," 
yelled  Biddon. 

The  latter  drew  his  horse  into  a  steady  canter, 
and  indulged  in  several  loud  laughs  at  the  flying 
fugitive.  Nat  continued  his  mad  career  until  he 
had  gone  a  good  distance,  when,  seeing  how  far 
behind  he  had  left  us,  he  reined  up  and  awaited 
our  approach. 

The  savages,  in  the  meantime,  were  hurrying  on 
in  pursuit.  I  know  not  what  led  them  to  expect 
any  success  in  this  chase,  for,  as  remarked,  not  one 
was  mounted.  They  may  have  had  little  faith  in 
the  speed  or  bottom  of  our  horses,  and  trusted  they 
would  be  able  to  run  us  down.  Biddon  half  turned 
in  his  seat,  and,  looking  back  a  moment,  asked: 

"  Do  you  see  that  red,  diggin'  like  all  mad  off  on 
one  side?    The  one  as  is  tryin'  to  surround  us?  " 

I  glanced  back  and  answered  in  the  affirmative. 

"  Do  you  want  to  see  a  red  drop  in  purty  style  ?  " 


g2  BILL  B1DD02J,   TRAPPER, 

I  answered  again  in  the  affirmative. 

"  Wal,  jis  keep  yer  peeper  on  him." 

So  saying,  he  raised  his  rifle,  without  checking 
the  speed  of  his  horse,  took  a  quick  aim  along  its 
long  barrel  and  fired.  To  my  astonishment,  the 
Indian  mentioned  uttered  a  wild  shriek,  and  spring- 
ing high  in  the  air,  fell  to  the  earth. 

"  He's  done  for,"  remarked  the  trapper,  quietly. 
"  While  I  fodder  my  iron,  'sposen  you  try  your 
hand." 

I  raised  mine  to  my  shoulder,  and  pointing  it 
toward  a  conspicuous  savage,  pulled  the  trigger. 
As  might  be  expected,  I  came  about  as  near  to  him 
as  I  did  to  Nat,  in  front. 

"  It  will  take  a  long  time  for  me  to  accomplish 
that  feat,"  said  I. 

"  Wal,  yer  goes  agin." 

And  again  was  the  fatal  rifle  discharged,  and 
again  did  a  savage  bite  the  dust. 

Still  the  pursuers  maintained  their  ground,  seem- 
indv  determined  to  overtake  us  at  all  hazards. 
They  were  separating  and  scattering  over  the 
prairie,  with  the  evident  intention  of  hemming  us 
in.     At  this  moment  we  came  up  to  Nat. 

"  Why  don't  you  run  ?  "  he  asked,  impatiently. 
"  They'll  shoot  us  all  afore  we  know  it." 

He  had   scarcely  finished  his   words,   when  the 


BILL  BIDDOX,   TRAPPER.  g^ 

pursuers  did  fire,  and  with  an  uncomfortable  effect, 
too.  The  bullets  were  plainly  heard  whistling 
through  the  air  beside  us,  and  one  actually  cut  its 
way  through  the  upper  part  of  Nat's  hat,  some  eight 
or  ten  inches  from  the  crown  of  his  head.  He 
dodged  nervously,  and  jerking  the  hat  off  his  head, 
held  it  up  to  view. 

"  Just  look  there !  "  he  exclaimed,  indignantly, 
putting  his  finger  through  the  orifice. 

"What  of  it?"  gruffly  asked  Biddon. 

"  That's  a  pretty  question  to  ask,  I  should  think ! 
I  swow  I  won't  stand  any  such  work  as  this.'* 

And  giving  his  horse  the  rein,  he  shot  rapidly 
ahead. 

*'  I  guess  we  mought  as  well,"  remarked  Biddon, 
letting  his  horse  have  free  rein. 

The  race  was  now  decided.  At  such  speed  as  we 
went,  of  course  the  pursuers  were  soon  left  behind, 
and  in  an  hour  not  one  was  visible,  all  of  them  being 
either  distanced  or  having  voluntarily  withdrawn. 

Our  course  was  southwest;  so  that  we  had  lost 
considerable  ground,  and  were  obliged  to  make  a 
long  detour  to  regain  the  trail.  We  camped  at  night 
about  as  far  south  as  the  previous  camp,  but  farther 
west.  In  the  morning  we  struck  due  north,  and 
continued  in  this  direction  for  several  days. 

It  is  not  necessary  to  give  the  particulars  of  our 


§4  BILL  BIDDON,  TRAPPER. 

journey  to  the  northwest.  We  continued  traveling 
onward  for  three  days,  when  we  reached  the  region 
where  it  was  intended  we  should  remain  until 
spring.  This  was  much  further  northward  than  I 
suspected;  in  fact,  it  was  but  a  few  miles  distant 
from  the  Hudson  Bay  Territory,  and  upon  one  of 
the  remote  tributaries  of  the  Missouri.  We  had 
entered  a  climate  that  even  now,  was  like  the  winter 
of  the  one  we  had  left.  We  had  entered  a  mighty 
wilderness,  where,  ere  we  left  it,  we  were  doomed 
to  pass  through  some  strange  experiences,  and  of 
which  I  now  shall  speak. 

We  had  detected  signs  of  beavers  at  several 
streams  which  we  crossed  during  the  last  day  or 
two  of  our  journey,  but  Biddon  paid  no  attention 
to  them  until  about  the  middle  of  the  afternoon, 
when  we  reached  a  small  river,  flowing  nearly  due 
south,  and  passing  through  the  Hudson  Bay  Terri- 
tory in  its  course.  This  stream  we  forded,  and,  as 
we  reached  the  opposite  side,  he  remarked : 
**  Yer'  the  spot  whar  we're  goin'  to  squat." 
It  is  perhaps  worth  remarking  that  the  section 
was  a  wooded  country.  We  had  passed  over  no 
clear  prairie  during  the  day,  and  were  in  the  midst 
of  a  deep  wood.  The  trees  were  of  nearly  every 
conceivable   kind — the   cottonwood   predominating. 


BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER.  %$ 

with  oak,  elm,  ash,  walnut,  and  such  as  are  common 
in  our  own  forests. 

After  crossing,  the  trapper  headed  directly  up- 
stream for  a  short  distance,  when  he  turned  to  the 
left  and  descended  into  a  valley.  Here  he  dis- 
mounted. 

"  Take  yer  fixins'/'  said  he,  "  and  turn  the  hosses 
loose." 

"  Won't  they  wander  away  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  Yourn  may,  but  mine  won't;  you've  got  to  take 
your  chances,  though.  '  Tain't  likely  they'll  be 
'sturbed,  'cept  by  grizzlys  and  reds." 

The  spot  selected  was  a  broad  bottom  of  rich 
grass,  inclosed  by  thick  walls  of  undergrowth  upon 
every  side.  Here  we  left  our  horses,  and,  taking 
our  saddles  and  trappings,  moved  away. 

"  Have  you  ever  been  here  before  ?  "  I  asked  of 
the  trapper. 

"  I  stayed  yer  last  season,  but  didn't  'spect  to  come 
back.  Howsumever,  I  changed  my  mind,  and  yer 
we  is.    Move  keerful  and  don't  make  a  big  trail." 

We  followed  nearly  a  quarter  of  a  mile  directly 
up-stream,  when  he  halted,  and  looked  carefully 
about  him. 

"  I  don't  s'pose  thar's  reds  'bout,  but  thar's  no 
tellin*  whar  they  is.     I  didn't  see  none  last  year. 


§6  BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER. 

but  they  mought  be  'bout  now.  Jes'  hold  on  a 
minute." 

The  banks  of  the  stream  were  fringed  by  a  deep 
Mnder-growth  upon  both  sides.  Stepping  forward 
to  the  water's  edge,  the  trapper  parted  the  branches, 
and  glancing  a  moment  within,  motioned  for  us  to 
approach. 

"  It's  all  right,"  said  he,  "  there  hain't  been  no 
reds  poki'  'bout  yer  while  I's  gone." 

With  this  he  stooped  and  pushed  a  small  canoe 
into  the  water  and  slipped  within  it. 

We  joined  him,  although  our  com-bined  weight 
brought  the  frail  vessel  down  to  its  very  gunwales. 
It  was  ma'de  of  bark  after  the  Indian  fashion,  very 
light,  but  strong.  Bidden  dipped  a  long  Indian 
paddle  in  the  water  and  we  moved  slowly  up-stream. 
After  going  a  short  distance,  he  again  touched  the 
bank,  and  from  beneath  another  lot  of  shrubbery 
drew  forth  a  number  of  beaver  traps.  These  were 
similar  to  the  common  trap  used  in  all  parts  of  the 
world,  and  set  much  after  the  same  fashion,  but  with 
a  very  different  bait.  At  every  point  where  signs 
of  the  animals  were  visible,  he  dug  down  the  bank, 
so  as  to  make  a  certain  spot  perpendicular.  Just 
beneath  the  surface  of  the  water  he  then  placed  the 
trap.  The  next  and  last  proceeding  was  to  smear 
^Jie  banks  around  with  a  very  odoriferous  oil,  ob- 


BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER.  87 

tained  from  the  beaver  itself.  This  smell  attracts 
the  beavers  in  the  vicinity,  who  immediately  swim 
to  the  shore  to  learn  more  of  it.  The  trap  is  so 
arranged  that  one  is  sure  to  place  his  foot  directly 
upon  it  for  support  in  ascending  the  bank,  and  the 
natural  consequence  follows.  He  is  caught  and  falls 
into  his  mortal  enemy's  hands. 

"  Ef  one  don't  have  a  dinner  on  beaver  tails  to- 
morrow, then  I'm  a  beaver,"  remarked  Bidden,  after 
he  had  set  all  his  traps,  and  headed  his  canoe  down 
stream. 

"  A  dinner  on  beaver  tails !  "  exclaimed  Nat,  in 
astonishment.  **  That  must  be  a  fine  dinner,  I 
swow." 

"  If  you  had  read  much  of  these  animals,  you 
would  know  that  the  part  mentioned  by  Biddon,  is 
the  most  delicious  and  nourishing  portion,"  said  I. 

"  And  when  you  gits  a  bite  of  it,  you'll  find  it  so, 
I  reckons !  " 

"  Perhaps  so,"  replied  Nat,  doubtingly ;  "  but 
whar  ar'  you  going  to  take  us  ?  " 

"  You'll  find  out  when  we  get  thar." 

The  trapper  rowed  the  canoe  quite  a  distance 
down  stream,  when  he  sheered  it  into  shore  close  to 
where  a  huge  chestnut,  larger  than  any  I  had  ever 
before  witnessed,  overhung  the  water.  Its  base  was 
enveloped  by  a  mass  of  undergrowth,  denser  than 


88  BILL  BIDDON,  TRAPPER. 

common,  and  we  were  obliged  to  stoop  to  the  edge 
of  the  boat  before  we  could  make  our  way  beneath 
it.  As  we  sprang  up  the  bank,  it  pulled  up  behind 
us,  and  I  then  noticed  that  the  chestnut  was  hollow, 
and  had  a  deep  orifice  at  its  base. 

"  Poller,"  commanded  Biddon,  stooping  and 
crawling  beneath  it. 

We  did  so,  although  there  was  some  hesitation 
upon  my  part,  and  my  astonishment  was  unbounded 
at  what  I  witnessed  when  within.  At  first  there 
was  nothing  visible  but  the  intense  darkness,  and 
I  stood,  fearful  of  advancing  or  retreating. 

"  Where  are  you,  Biddon  ? "  asked  Nat,  in  a 
slightly  wavering  tone.  The  next  instant  the  trap- 
per struck  a  light ;  and  as  its  rays  filled  the  chamber, 
I  repeat,  my  astonishment  was  unbounded.  We 
were  standing  in  an  open  space,  at  least  eight  feet 
in  diameter.  The  chestnut  was  but  a  mere  shell, 
with  its  trunk  but  a  few  inches  in  thickness  at  the 
most.  The  interior  of  this  was  fitted  up  like  a 
house.  The  rotten  chunks  upon  the  sides  had  been 
torn  down  and  formed  a  pleasant,  velvety  carpet 
beneath  the  feet.  All  around  the  walls  were  hung 
numerous  furs,  and  a  pile  at  one  side  afforded  a  bed 
such  as  we  had  not  enjoyed  for  weeks.  Added  to 
all  this,  there  was  an  arrangement  so  as  to  make  it 


BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER.  89 

perfectly  easy  and  convenient  to  kindle  a  fire.  Nat 
was  the  first  to  express  his  unbounded  astonishment. 

"  This  beats  all  I  never  seen  anything  like  it. 
But  don't  the  Injins  know  anything  of  it?" 

"  No,  sir;  and  I  cac'late  as  how  they  won't 
neyther,  ef  you  don't  tell  'em." 

"  Oh !  I  won't  tell  them.  I  swow  this  is  queer," 
and  he  looked  slowly  about  and  above  him. 
"  What's  that  hole  for  ? "  he  asked,  pointing  to  a 
small  orifice  just  visible  far  above  us. 

"  That's  fur  the  smoke  to  go  out." 

"  But  it  must  be  likely  to  attract  attention,"  I  re- 
marked. 

"  I  never  start  a  fire  'cept  at  night." 

"  I  see — wonderful ! "  and  I,  too,  gazed  ad- 
miringly about  me.  The  light  made  the  whole  in- 
terior visible.  The  dark,  snuff-colored  fragments 
of  decayed  wood  hung  in  ponderous  masses  above 
us,  and  the  immense  diameter  gradually  tapered  as 
it  ascended,  until  only  the  small  opening,  far  above, 
was  seen,  resembling  a  faint  star.  The  thickness  of 
the  wood,  together  with  the  great  number  of  furs, 
protected  us  so  well  from  the  cold,  that  there  could 
be  little  need  of  fire  in  the  coldest  weather,  except 
for  cooking  purposes. 

"  This  is  rather  odd,  I  allow,  to  you,  Jarsey ;  but 
ef  you  had  been  with  me  down  on  the  Yallerstone, 


QO  BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER. 

you'd  seen  suthin'  as  would  've  made  you  look,  you 
would.     You  may  shoot  me,  ef  you  wouldn't." 

"  I  suppose  I  should,  but  not  more  than  this  has." 

"  Mebbe  not,  but  don't  stand  gapin'  there  all  day. 
It's  gittin'  dark,  and  we'll  have  our  fodder." 

The  fire  was  now  started,  and  the  smoke  ascended 
finely,  escaping  at  the  outlet.  A  good  slice  of  meat 
was  cooked,  and  we  made  a  hearty  supper  upon  it. 
After  this  the  fire  was  allowed  to  slumber,  but  the 
light  remained  burning  until  a  late  hour.  We  lit 
our  pipes,  and  chatted  dreamily  for  a  long  time  in 
our  new  home.  The  trapper,  feeling  in  the  mood, 
related  many  reminiscences  of  his  life,  including 
adventures  both  tragical  and  comical,  and  Nat  gave 
a  few  of  his  own  experiences.  At  a  late  hour  we 
ceased,  and  fell  into  a  peaceful,  dreamless  slumber. 

When  I  awoke  the  trapper  had  disappeared.  Nat 
was  stretched  beside  me  still  asleep.  In  a  short 
time  the  former  entered  as  noiselessly  as  he  had 
departed. 

"What  fortune?"  I  asked. 

"  Good ;  had  two  fat  fellers.  W^ake  up,  and  we'll 
have  a  meal  as  is  a  meal." 

Nat  soon  made  a  movement,  and,  after  several 
yawns,  became  fully  awake.  The  trapper  kindled  a 
small  fire,  and  cooked  his  beaver  tails.     The  two 


BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER.  gi 

made  as  choice  and  delicious  a  meal  as  I  had  ever 
eaten.     Nat  was  convinced  by  one  taste. 

The  day  was  clear  and  pleasant,  and  Bidden  ex- 
pressed his  determination  of  going  up  the  stream  in 
order  to  see  the  signs  of  game.  I  accompanied  him, 
but  Nat  chose  to  remain  at  home  and  sleep  a  few 
hours  longer. 

We  sauntered  carelessly  forth  up  the  stream 
through  the  tangled  underwood.  It  was  a  clear  day 
in  autumn ;  the  air  was  keen  and  bracing,  and  the 
woods  gloriously  fine.  Some  of  the  leaves  were 
just  beginning  to  fall,  and  they  made  a  dappled  and 
fiery  carpet  for  our  feet,  rustling  with  a  soft,  pleas- 
ant sound  at  every  step.  Now  and  then  we  could 
hear  the  shrill  notes  of  some  songster  of  the  forest, 
and  once  or  twice  the  faint  bay  of  some  distant 
animal. 

We  had  wandered  some  distance,  when  Biddon 
proposed  turning  back,  as  he  had  just  discovered 
he  had  forgotten  his  pipe.  I  was  too  well  pleased, 
however,  with  the  prospect  to  retrace  my  footsteps. 
Accordingly,  we  parted  company  for  a  time,  he 
remarking  that  probably  he  would  return  when  he 
had  regained  his  indispensable  article. 

Left  alone,  I  now  wandered  dreamily  onward,  in 
a  pleasant  reverie,  hardly  conscious  of  what  I  was 
doing,   until   I  was   recalled  to  my   senses  by   the 


02  BILL  BIDDON,  TRAPPBB. 

grandeur  of  a  new  scene  that  suddenly  burst  upon 
my  view.  I  had  ascended  a  small  rise  on  the  bank 
of  the  stream,  from  which  I  had  an  extended  view 
of  the  river.  I  stood  for  a  moment  wrapt  in  the 
glories  of  the  scene.  Far  behind  could  be  discerned 
the  broad  bosom  of  the  river,  stretching  away  like 
a  vast  body  of  molten  silver,  bordered  on  either 
side  by  the  mighty  forest,  until  it  disappeared  in  a 
sweeping  curve,  within  the  interminable  wilderness. 
Above  me  for  several  miles  the  same  winding 
course  could  be  seen,  brightly  glistening  for  miles. 
Not  a  ripple  disturbed  the  surface,  save  when  a 
bird  skimmed  over  it,  just  tipping  its  wings, 
and  making  a  flashing  circle  or  two.  The  blue  sky 
above,  unflecked  by  a  single  cloud,  harmonized  so 
well  with  the  magnificent  view,  that  I  stood  a  long 
time,  drinking  in  the  splendor  of  the  scene. 

My  eye  was  still  resting  upon  the  glistening  bend 
of  the  river  above,  when  the  quietness  of  the  scene 
was  interrupted  by  a  dark  speck  which  suddenly 
came  in  view,  around  a  curve  about  si  mile  above. 
At  first  I  supposed  it  to  be  some  animal  or  log 
floating  upon  the  surface;  but  as  I  looked  at  it,  I 
saw  to  my  astonishment  that  it  was  a  canoe  coming 
down-stream.  Several  forms  were  visible,  yet  their 
number,  at  that  distance,  was  uncertain.  The  bright 
flash  of  their  paddles  was  visible  in  the  morning 


"  In  the  stem,  with  a  guiding  oar,  sat  a  young  female." 


BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER.  gc 

sunshine,  and  they  maintained  their  place  near  the 
center  of  the  stream. 

I  scrutinized  them,  vainly  to  make  out  their  num- 
ber, until  it  occurred  to  me  that  it  would  be  best 
to  make  myself  invisible.  The  approaching  canoe 
might  contain  nothing  but  Indians,  and  it  was  not 
desirable  that  our  presence  in  this  section  should  be 
known  to  any  but  ourselves.  I  slipped  behind  the 
trunk  of  a  tree,  nearer  the  water,  yet  still  upon  the 
elevated  knoll,  which  entirely  concealed  my  body 
from  sight. 

From  this  point  I  watched  the  approach  of  the 
canoe  with  interest.  Soon  it  came  nigh  enough  to 
enable  me  to  distinguish  the  forms  within  it.  There 
were  two  Indian  warriors  seated  each  with  a  paddle 
in  his  hand,  but  not  using  them,  except  to  keep 
the  canoe  in  the  channel,  and  in  the  stern,  with  a 
guiding  oar,  sat  a  young  female.  I  supposed  her 
a  squaw,  belonging  to  the  same  tribe  with  her  com- 
panions, and  scrutinized  her  as  closely  as  my  posi- 
tion would  permit.  She  wore  a  beautiful  head- 
dress, gayly  ornamented  with  stained  porcupine 
quills  and  beads,  and  a  brilliant  crimson  shawl  en- 
veloped her  slight  form.  The  savages  maintained 
their  places  as  motionless  as  statues,  their  gaze 
apparently  resting  upon  the  stream  behind  them ; 
while  that  of  the  female  was  fixed  upon  the  stream 


q5  bill  biddon,  trapper. 

in  front,  and  her  whole  attention  absorbed  in  direct- 
mg  her  canoe. 

I  know  not  whether  the  inmates  discovered  me 
before  I  concealed  myself,  but  I  fancied  I  detected 
a  glance  of  the  Indians  at  my  hiding-place,  as  they 
floated  slowly  by,  and  some  cause  led  the  female, 
when  directly  opposite,  and  but  a  few  hundred  feet 
distant,  to  turn  her  face  toward  me.  Judge  of  my 
astonishment,  at  perceiving  that  she  was  not  an 
Indian — but  a  white  woman!  Her  appearance,  as 
she  turned  her  gaze  directly  upon  the  spot  where 
I  was  standing,  I  can  never  forget.  She  was  so 
close  at  hand,  and  my  view  so  perfect  in  the  clear 
sunlight,  that  I  saw  every  feature.  The  pale  white 
face,  surrounded  by  dark,  luxuriant  hair  falling 
upon  the  shoulders,  the  dark  eyes  shaded  by  long 
inky  lashes,  and  the  mute,  untranslatable  look, 
haunted  me  for  many  a  night  after.  She  merely 
glanced  toward  me,  and  slowly  floated  past. 

Dropping  upon  my  hands  and  knees,  I  crept 
hastily  from  the  knoll  into  the  undergrowth  below, 
and  made  my  way  hurriedly  but  noiselessly  to  the 
stream.  I  could  not  have  been  over  a  minute  in 
so  doing,  but  when  I  reached  the  water,  and  peered 
through  the  bushes,  not  a  trace  of  the  canoe  was 
visible.  I  looked  closely  into  each  shore,  up  and 
down  the  stream,   everywhere  that   I   could   look, 


BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER,  gy 

but  could  not  detect  the  slightest  ripple  or  move- 
ment to  account  for  this  mysterious  disappearance. 
For  over  an  hour  I  waited  in  the  hope  that  the 
canoe  would  reappear,  but  I  saw  nothing  more  of  it 


og  MILL  BJDDON,   TRAPPER, 


CHAPTER  V. 

CONVERSATIONS    AND    PLANS. 

The  disappearance  of  the  canoe,  although  singular 
in  itself,  had  nothing  supernatural  about  it.  The 
shrubbery,  which  overhung  the  water  on  either 
shore,  offered  a  secure  and  impenetrable  hiding- 
place,  and  a  few  dexterous,  vigorous  strokes  of  the 
paddles  were  all  that  was  needed  to  send  it  beneath 
their  shadows.  That  this  had  been  done,  was  plainly 
evident.  Yet  why  had  it  been  done?  What  motive 
was  there  for  concealment  ?  And  why,  if  apprehen- 
sive of  danger,  had  the  Indians  waited  till  they 
were  in  its  vicinity? 

These  and  numerous  questions,  I  asked  myself, 
as  I  carefully  retraced  my  steps  down-stream  again. 
The  whole  proceeding  was  mysterious  to  me.  I 
had,  doubtless,  exposed  myself  while  watching  the 
canoe  and  its  occupants,  and  thus  betrayed  to  an 
enemy  our  presence  in  their  country.  What  would 
result  from  this,  I  could  not  conjecture,  and  deter- 
mined to  make  everything  known  to  the  trapper. 


BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER. 


99 


But  then  I  felt  somewhat  fearful  of  this.  He 
would,  doubtless,  be  incensed  at  my  imprudent 
thoughtlessness,  which  might  compel  him  to  leave 
a  country  offering  such  inducements  to  the  trapper 
and  fur-trade ;  and  I  argued  it  was  not  certain  that 
I  had  really  been  seen  by  the  Indians  in  question. 
If  they  meditated  hostility,  Biddon  would  be  warned 
soon  enough  for  all  purposes — and  so  I  decided  to 
keep  my  own  secret  for  the  present. 

But  the  question  which  occupied  my  thoughts, 
almost  to  the  exclusion  of  everything  else,  was  the 
identity  of  the  female  in  the  canoe.  What  could 
bring  a  white  maiden  to  these  wild  regions  of  the 
northwest?  What  meant  her  appearance  in  the 
canoe  with  two  savage  Indian  warriors?  What  if 
she  was  the  child  which  Biddon  had  referred  to,  as 
being  captured  upon  the  night  of  the  massacre? 
This  thought  intensified  the  interest  I  already  felt 
in  her,  I  believed  she  had  seen  me ;  and  her  silent 
look  toward  the  shore  had  something  more  than 
curiosity  in  it.  I  imagined  there  was  a  mute, 
eloquent  appeal  in  those  dark  eyes. 

Still  ruminating  upon  this  all-absorbing  theme,  I 
reached  the  tree,  and,  stooping  upon  my  hands  and 
knees,  crawled  within  it.  The  movement  had  well- 
nigh  cost  me  my  life.  As  my  head  entered,  I 
encountered  the  alarmed  visages  of  Nat  and  Biddon 


lOo  BILL  BIDDON,  TRAPPER. 

— the  latter  with  his  knife  drawn,  and  just  prepar- 
ing to  spring  upon  me. 

"  You  liked  to  got  rubbed  out  that  time ! "  he 
exclaimed,  replacing  his  weapon.  "  What  made  you 
forgit  the  sign  ?  " 

"  It  must  have  been  because  it  did  not  occur  to 
me,"  I  laughed ;  "  I  have  had  no  occasion  to  use  it 
before,  and  forgot  it  altogether ;  but  I  will  remem- 
ber it,  you  may  be  assured,  in  future.'* 

"  You'd  better,  for  I  was  just  going  to  shoot,  too," 
added  Nat,  rising  to  his  feet,  and  then  seating  him- 
self again. 

"  You  shoot !  "  repeated  Biddon,  contemptuously, 
"  You're  shooter  ain't  loaded !  " 

"  I  forgot  that.  I  wonder  if  I  couldn't  load  it, 
say?"  he  indignantly  demanded. 

"  Yes,  in  course,  if  the  reds  waited  fur  yer." 

Nat  made  no  reply  to  this,  except  that  of  instantly 
proceeding  to  load  his  piece.  As  it  was  near  noon, 
the  meal  was  prepared — this  time  from  the  beaver's 
body.  The  hair  was  singed  off  from  a  piece,  which 
was  then  cooked  in  the  usual  manner.  This,  al- 
though very  palatable,  was  not  equal  to  the  tail  of 
the  animal,  the  meat  being  more  tough  and  oily. 

Shortly  after,  the  trapper  departed  for  the  purpose 
of  visiting  his  traps,  and  setting  new  ones.     When 


BILL  BIDDON,  TRAPPER.  loi 

alone  with  Nat,  I  determined  to  impart  to  him  my 
morning's  experience. 

"Nat,  I  have  seen  Indians,"  I  remarked,  in  a 

quiet  tone. 

"  You  hain't !  "  he  exclaimed,  starting  up  from  his 
bed  of  skins  with  such  suddenness  as  to  break  the 
remains  of  his  pipe. 

"I  have;  and,  what  is  considerably  more,  they 

have  seen  me." 

"  I  should  think  it  was  considerably  more,  umph ! 
What  did  you  do  to  them?  I  didn't  hear  you  shoot. 
Why  didn't  you  tell  me  before?  Why  didn't  you— 
why,  it  seems  to  me  you're  very  cool  about  it." 

"  There  is  no  occasion  for  excitement  at  all.  Just 
remain  quiet,  and  I  will  tell  you  how  it  all  happened." 

And  thereupon  I  related  the  particulars  of  the 
incident  already  known  to  the  reader.  Nat's 
wonder,  excitement,  and  apprehension  were  roused 
to  the  highest  pitch  at  the  narration.  Springing  to 
his  feet,  he  pulled  his  flattened  hat  violently  over 
his  forehead,  and  striding  about  a  moment,  de- 
manded : 

''  Why  didn't  you  tell  Bill?  Like  as  not  he'll  be 
shot  and  scalped  before  he  gets  back." 

"  I  did  not  think  it  best,"  I  returned.  "  Biddon 
is  not  the  man  to  walk  into  danger  with  his  eyes 


I02  BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER, 

shut,  and  if  there  is  any  cause  for  fear,  he  will 
discover  it  soon  enough." 

"  Suppose  he  will ;  but  ain't  it  terrible  ?  " 

"Isn't  what  terrible?" 

"  Why,  that  we're  surrounded  by  In j ins,  thirsting 
for  our  blood !  " 

"  We  are  not  surrounded  by  Indians,  Nat,"  I 
returned,  reprovingly. 

"  I  know ;  but  then  they  are  all  around  us.  It 
won't  do  to  stick  our  heads  out,  except  at  night,  and 
then,  like  as  not,  we'll  be  shot  for  our  trouble." 

"  You  are  not  afraid,  I  hope." 

"  Oh,  no !  not  a  bit;  but  then  you  know  it's  rather 
unpleasant  to  feel  that  those  infarnal  Blackfeet 
(because  this  is  the  country  of  the  Blackfeet  In  j  ins) 
are  all  about  you,  and  waiting  for  a  chance  to  shoot 
vou  from  behind  everv  bush." 

"  Nat,"  I  commenced,  earnestly,  "  you  say  you  are 
not  afraid  of  Indians,  and  yet  you  show  it  in  every 
word,  look,  and  action.  There  is  no  excuse  for  this. 
I  saw  only  two  savages,  and  a  girl,  evidently  a 
captive;  no  words  or  actions  were  exchanged  be- 
tween us.  They  disappeared  very  suddenly  and 
were,  more  probably,  frightened  at  my  presence.  I 
see  nothing  in  this  to  excuse  the  excitement  and 
terror  you  have  exhibited." 

"  I  wonder  what  that  girl  is  ?  " 


BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER.  jq-, 

"  I  am  afraid  you  will  have  to  wonder  a  long 
time,  as  I  can  see  no  occasion  for  satisfying  your 
curiosity." 

"Is  she  good  looking?"  asked  my  companion, 
seriously. 

"  Very !     What  makes  you  ask  that  question  ?  " 
"  I  declare,  if   I  don't  marry  her,  just  to  spite 
Alminy,    and    make    Bill    Hawkins    mad,"    he    ex- 
claimed, joyously. 

At  this  point  I  could  restrain  my  mirth  no  longer; 
but,  as  I  indulged  it,  I  was  considerably  surprised  to 
feel  a  slight  twinge  of  jealousy  at  his  words.  This 
discovery  was  painful. 

''  I  am  afraid  you  will  meet  with  several  formi- 
dable obstacles,  before  you  can  accomplish  that ;  the 
most  difficult  of  which  will  be  to  obtain  an  audience 
with  the  fair  one  herself." 

"  Don't  suppose  she'd  be  very  anxious  to  see  me ; 
and  I  wouldn't  care  if  I  only  had  my  pipe  and  jack- 
knife  to  pass  away  time  with." 

"  I  think  it  would  be  as  well  not  to  mention  this 
affair  to  Biddon." 
"Why  not?" 

"  It  can  do  no  good,  and  he  would  be  displeased 
at  the  thoughtlessness  I  have  evidenced.  I  do  not 
think  there  are  savages  enough  in  the  vicinity  to 
render  us  fearful  of  our  safety.     The  canoe,  I  am 


104  ^^^^  BIDDON,  TRAPPER. 

disposed  to  believe,  belongs  to  some  tribe  quite  dis- 
tant from  here." 

"  But  what  are  they  here  for  ?  " 

"  I  can  only  conjecture.  Biddon  has  never  seen 
savages  in  this  particular  section,  and  these  may  be 
returning  from  some  journey  to  their  tribe." 

"  Perhaps  so,  and  may  be  not.  These  plagued 
In j ins  sometimes  live  in  one  place  and  sometimes  in 
another,  you  know,  and  it  may  be  that  a  notion  has 
just  entered  their  heads  to  come  and  live  in  these 
parts." 

"  There  is  reason  in  what  you  say,  but,  as  I  stated, 
if  danger  threatens,  Biddon  will  undoubtedly  detect 
its  signs  himself  in  time." 

"I  think  he  will,  though  I  shall  feel  a  little 
flustered  every  time  he  goes  out.  You  remember 
when  he  was  after  the  antelope,  he  walked  right 
am.ong  the  In  j  ins,  without  knowing  it  till  it  was  too 
late  to  stop." 

"  He  did,  it  is  true,  but  how  nicely  he  walked  out 
again.  I  tell  you,  Nat,  that  fellow  has  nerve  equal 
to  any  emergency.  What  man,  when  conscious  of 
an  overwhelming  foe  being  concealed  within  a  few 
feet  of  him,  could  have  repressed  every  sign  of 
trepidation  or  fear,  as  he  did,  and  bring  the  antelope 
through  the  same  fearful  ordeal,  with  the  same 
coolness  and  deliberation  ?  " 


BILL  BIDDON,  TRAPPER.  105 

"  That  was  a  clever  thing,  I  allow." 

**  Bidden  told  me  he  felt  a  little  nervous  when 
he  saw  us  start  to  come  up  to  him,  for,  if  we  had 
reached  him,  it  would  have  been  all  up  with  us. 
He  called  out  to  us,  though  we  did  not  hear  him, 
that  there  were  more  animals  in  the  grove,  and 
our  approach  would  frighten  them.  The  impatient 
Indians  were  thus  held  at  bay,  in  the  hope  of  being 
oitered  a  better  opportunity  to  accomplish  our  ruin, 
until  it  was  too  late  to  accomplish  anything  save 
the  loss  of  two  or  three  of  their  number.  Such  a 
man,  I  repeat,  will  scent  danger  soon  enough  with- 
out the  help  of  others." 

"  He  will,  and  I  hope  he'll  find  out  who  that 
white  girl  is." 

"  Nat,  do  you  remember  the  account  Biddon 
gave  some  time  ago  of  a  horrible  massacre,  upon 
the  sandy  island  near  where  we  encamped  one 
night?" 

"  I  don't  think  there  is  much  likelihood  of  my 
ever  forgetting  it." 

"  You  will  also  recall  his  account  of  the  capture 
of  a  small  child  by  the  savages?  Now,  it  has  oc- 
curred to  me  that  this  is  that  child  grown  to  woman- 
hood." 

"  I  know  it  is !  "  exclaimed  Nat,  joyously. 

**  It  is  true  there  is  much  against  it.     It  was  a 


jo6  ^^^^  BIDDON,   TRAPPER. 

great  distance  from  here,  but  as  these  savages 
wander  hundreds  of  miles  at  times,  it  is  not  im- 
probable, upon  that  ground.  Instances  are  only 
too  common  of  persons  spending  their  lives  in 
captivity  among  these  Indian  tribes.  She  is  a  cap- 
tive, beyond  a  doubt,  and  must  long  for  restoration 
to  her  home  and  friends.  If  possible,  I  am  bound 
to  know  more  of  her." 

"  So  am  I ! "  exclaimed  my  excitable  com- 
panion. 

"  As  I  said,  we  will  say  nothing  of  this  to  Biddon, 
until  he  discovers  signs  of  Indians  himself.  To- 
morrow, we  will  go  forth  together,  and  spend  the 
day  in  endeavoring  to  gain  traces  of  the  canoe  and 
its  inmates;  and  if  anything  is  discovered  which  is 
alarming,  we  will  impart  it  to  him." 

This  Nat  agreed  to,  and  shortly  after  we  heard 
three  raps  upon  the  outside  of  the  tree — the  trap- 
per's signal  of  his  presence.  A  moment  after,  he 
made  his  appearance.  He  was  considerably  elated 
at  his  prospect  for  a  goodly  quantity  of  furs; 
had  set  a  number  of  traps;  was  sure  of  half  a 
dozen  next  day;  had  seen  no  signs  of  Indians, 
and  was  convinced  there  were  none  in  the  vicinity. 
None  of  us  passed  out  again  that  day,  but  remained 
indulging  in  our  pipes  and  conversation  as  usual, 
until  a  late  hour. 


BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER.  lo^ 

The  next  morning  the  trapper  proposed  that  I 
should  accompany  him  upon  his  daily  round.  I 
complied,  while  Nat  remained  behind. 

The  day  was  as  warm  and  pleasant  as  the  pre- 
ceding one,  and  the  forest  and  stream  as  delightful. 
Biddon  paddled  slowly  up  the  unrippled  surface, 
and  in  a  short  time  reached  the  first  trap;  it  had 
not  been  disturbed.  Still  hopeful,  he  passed  on 
to  the  second  and  third  and  all  the  others.  But 
there  were  no  signs  of  beaver  in  any. 

"  Shoot  me,  that's  quar' !  "  he  exclaimed,  thought- 
fully, as  he  saw  the  last  one.  ''  I  don't  understand 
it ;  I  must  git  out  and  take  a  look  round." 

He  sprang  ashore,  and  minutely  examined  the 
ground  around.  A  few  seconds  sufficed.  He 
looked  up  with  a  gleam  of  deep  meaning,  and  s^id: 

''  Here's  the  track  of  a  thunderin'  moccasin.  The 
reds  have  found  us  out." 

He  stepped  into  the  canoe,  and  taking  the  pad- 
dle moved  it  carefully  back  again.  He  touched  at 
each  trap  on  the  way.  The  footprints  of  a  stranger 
were  visible  at  each. 

"  Thar's  been  a  beaver  taken  out  of  that  one !  " 
he  remarked,  as  the  last  one  was  reached.  "  It's 
lucky  for  the  sneakin'  coward  that  I  didn't  see  him. 
He  wouldn't  'sturbed  any  more  gentlemen's  traps." 


I08  BILL  BIDDON,  TRAPPER. 

"  Are  you  sure  it  is  an  Indian  who  has  been 
annoying  you  ?  " 

"  Wogh !  Don't  you  s'pose  I  could  tell  a  red's 
track  from  a  grizzly's  ?  " 

"  But  it  might  have  been  a  white  man — some 
hunter  or  trapper  ?  "  I  suggested. 

"  A  white  man  wouldn't  be  mean  'nough  to  do 
sich  a  thing,  'less  it  war  some  of  those  Hudson  Bay 
fellers.  They  try  them  tricks  sometimes,  but  they 
git  come  up  to.  I  catched  a  feller  once  from  Fort 
Hall  at  mine,  and  the  way  I  walked  into  him  war 
a  caution;  but  this  ar'  an  Injin's  track,  sure." 

"  Do  you  suspect  there  could  be  a  number  in  the 
vicinity?  " 

"  Ef  there  war,  I'd  Ve  heard  of  'em  afore.  This 
is  some  varmint,  sneakin'  round  yer,  and  he's  got  to 
be  rubbed  out  afore  he  makes  more  trouble." 

"  I  fear  that  will  be  a  difficult  and  dangerous  job." 

"  Let  me  be  for  that." 

Shortly  after  we  reached  our  home,  and  running 
the  canoe  beneath  the  bushes,  entered  it.  We 
were  somewhat  surprised  to  find  Nat  absent.  He 
returned,  however,  in  a  short  time,  and  I  saw  at 
once  by  his  nervous,  flustered  manner  that  some- 
thing unusual  had  occurred.  Biddon  questioned 
him  rather  closely,  as  he  suspected  something,  but 
Nat  evaded  his  inquiries,  and  would  not  admit  that 


BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER.  109 

he  had  seen  anything  to  excite  alarm  or  appre- 
hension. 

"  I'm  goin'  out,  and  when  I  come  back  I'll  tell 
you  what's  the  matter  with  them  traps/'  said 
Biddon,  seizing  his  rifle  and  departing. 

I  waited  until  he  was  beyond  hearing,  and  then 
turning  to  my  companion,  asked, 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  you,  Nat  ?  " 

"  Why  ?  "  he  asked,  in  turn,  with  a  start. 

"  Because  you  show  plainly  that  something  has 
occurred  to  alarm  you." 

He  remained  silent  a  moment,  and  then  seizing 
his  hat,  jerked  it  off  his  head,  and  threw  it  spite- 
fully down,  where  he  gazed  at  it  a  second,  and 
exclaimed, 

"  I'm  sick  of  this." 

"Sick  of  what?" 

"  Why,  of  being  in  this  fix." 

"  I  don't  understand  you.  Please  explain  what 
you  mean." 

"  I  should  think  you  ought  to  know." 

"  But  I  do  not." 

"  Why,  this  wood  is  full  of  In j ins ;  they're  behind 
every  tree  and  stump,  and  in  every  bush,  and  you 
can  hardly  step  without  pitching  over  some  painted 
heathen." 

"  I  am  afraid  you  are  exaggerating,"  I  answered, 


no  BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER. 

suppressing  a  smile  which  was  struggling  at  the 
corners  of  my  mouth. 

"  No,  I  ain't.  I  swow  there  are  ten  thousand 
Injins  just  waiting  outside  to  pounce  upon  us." 

"  You  are  talking  nonsense,  and  you  know  it." 

"Well,  there's  one  Injin,  for  I  seen  him.  Come 
now,"  he  affirmed,  as  if  the  matter  was  now  settled 
beyond  a  question. 

"  Ah !  that  alters  the  case  considerably.  I 
shouldn't  wonder  at  all  if  there  is  one  or  a  half- 
dozen  savages  in  the  forest." 

"  If  you  see  one  savage  haven't  you  a  right  to 
suppose  there's  a  hundred  more  about,  I  should 
like  to  know  ?  " 

"  Not  always,  Nat ;  I  have  seen  three  myself,  yet 
I  do  not  believe  there  is  another  one  in  the  neigh- 
borhood. But  I  have  not  heard  the  particulars 
of  this  affair  of  which  you  have  been  speaking. 
Please  let  me  hear  them." 

"  There  isn't  much  to  tell,  but  there  is  enough 
to  make  you  do  a  heap  of  thinking.  You  see,  after 
you  had  left,  I  took  a  notion  that  I  must  have  a 
morning  ramble;  and  I  thought,  too,  there  might 
be  such  a  thing  as  you  two  running  into  danger  and 
needing  my  help  (T  should  like  to  know  what  you 
are  laughing  at).  So,  on  the  whole,  there  was  no 
hesitation  upon  my  part.     Taking  my  rifle  out,  I 


BILL  BIDDOX,   TRAPPER.  m 

was  soon  making  my  way  as  noiselessly  as  possible, 
in  a  direction  from  the  river. 

"  I  hadn't  gone  more  than  a  dozen  yards  before 
I  commenced  thinking  about  Injins,  and  came  nigh 
going  back  again.  I  wasn't  afraid  at  all,  you  know, 
but  then  it  appeared  to  me  I  might  bring  you  and 
Biddon  into  trouble.  However,  I  kept  on.  I  had 
gone  some  distance  further,  when  all  of  a  sudden  I 
heard  a  terrible  whirr  and  rattle,  and  jumped  clean 
off  my  feet.  But  it  was  only  a  big  owl  which  I  had 
stirred  up.  I  was  so  provoked  at  the  start  he  gave 
me,  that  I  should  have  wrung  his  neck  had  I  got 
my  hands  upon  him.  But  I  went  on.  Pretty  soon 
I  reached  a  little  stream  of  water,  and  as  I  jumped 
across,  what  do  you  suppose  I  saw  in  the  sand  ?  " 

''  I  am  sure  I  cannot  tell." 

"  Nothing  less  than  a  big  moccasin  track. 
And  what  was  more,  it  hadn't  been  made  there  a 
week  before!  I  stood  and  looked  at  it  a  good 
while,  cogitating  some  wonderful  things.  At  last  I 
stooped  and  went  to  measuring  it.  I  was  just  going 
to  rise,  when  I  heard  a  grunt  right  by  me.  I 
jumped  up  so  quick — to  be  ready,  you  know — that 
I  floundered  backward  into  the  water.  And  I  mav 
be  shot  if  there  wasn't  a  big  painted  Injin  standing 
not  ten  feet  off.  He  didn't  say  a  word,  but  just 
stood  and  looked  at  me  with  them  awful  eyes  of  his. 


112  BILL  BIDDON,  TRAPPER. 

As  soon  as  I  could  think,  I  raised  my  gun,  took  a 
quick  aim,  and  pulled  the  trigger ;  but  the  infernal 
gun  snapped.     I  pulled  it  again,  but  it  wouldn't  go, 
and    I    just   happened    to   think   the   thing   wasn't 
loaded.     All  this  time  the  painted  imp  stood  grin- 
ning at  me,  without  saying  a  word,  except  to  kinder 
grunt.    He  had  a  big  shining  gun  in  one  hand,  and 
I   was  dreadful  afraid  he  would   shoot  it.     I  told 
him  not  to  stir,  but  to  stand  still  till  I  got  mine 
loaded,  and  he  waited.     But  somehow  or  other,  I 
s'pose  I  was  in  such  a  hurry  that  things  wouldn't 
go   right.      Instead   of  putting  the  powder   in  the 
gun-barrel,  I  crammed  it  in  my  pocket,  and  jammed 
the  ramrod  into  my  shoe.     I  told  the  Injin  to  have 
patience  and  I'd  get  it  loaded  in  a  minute.     I  got 
it   fixed    somehow    at     last    and    hauled    it    up    to 
my  shoulder,  when,  no  Injin  was  there!     I  looked 
behind,   all   about  me,   and  up   into   the  trees   but 
he'd  been  spirited  away  somewhere.     However,  I 
made  up  my  mind  to  shoot  at  the  spot  where  he 
had  stood,  and  I  up  and  blazed  away.     That  is,  I 
blazed  away  without  the  gun  going  off.     I  believe 
he  spirited  that  too." 

"  Let  me  examine  it.     Perhaps  you  made  some 
blunder." 

"  No,  Fm  sure  I  didn^" 

I  took  the  rifle,  with  a  smile  of  certainty  that 


BILL  BIDDON,  TRAPPER.  113 

I  should  find  something  the  matter  with  it.  Sure 
enough  the  muzzle  was  crammed  with  paper,  and 
upon  removing  it,  a  pipestem,  broken  in  pieces, 
rolled  out,  while  there  was  not  a  grain  of  powder  in 
the  barrel. 

'*  I  declare,  I  forgot  about  the  powder ! "  ex- 
claimed Nat,  opening  his  eyes  in  wonder. 

"  But  not  about  the  bullet,"  I  laughed,  pointing 
to  the  fragments  of  his  pipe. 

"  How'd  that  get  there  ?  "  he  angrily  asked. 

"That's  the  question." 

"  I  didn't  put  it  there." 

"Who  did,  then?" 

"  I  don't  know,  I  declare." 

Nat  picked  up  the  fragments  and  examined  them 
carefully. 

"  That's  my  pipe  sure ;  and  I  had  it  in  my 
mouth,  I  remember  when  I  started  out,  and  missed 
it  coming  back.  I  didn't  put  it  in  the  gun 
though." 

"  Let  it  pass  then.  Did  you  see  no  more  of  your 
Indian  friend  ?  " 

"  No ;  he  knew  enough  to  keep  out  of  my  way. 
I  waited  a  long  time  for  him,  and  at  last  started 
home  again.  I  kept  an  eye  on  every  suspicious 
object,  but  as  I  just  said,  seen  nothing." 

At  this  point  I  gave  free  vent  to  my  pent-up 


II .  BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER. 

mirth.     Nat,  much  astonished,  looked  wonderingly 
at  me,  seemingly  at  a  loss  to  understand  the  cause. 

"  I  do  not  see  what  there  is  to  laugh  at,"  he  re- 
marked, reprovingly.  "  If  it's  a  laughing  matter 
to  know  that  there  are  In j ins  all  about  you,  why 
you  must  laugh." 

*'  Your  adventure  with  the  Indian,  Nat,  and  the 
singular  load  in  your  rifle  appears  to  me  to  be  a 
funny  matter,  and  I  trust  you  will  pardon  mtt 
if " 

**  Didn't  I  tell  you  I  didn't  put  it  in  there?  It 
was  the  Injin's  work." 

And  to  this  day  Nat  cannot  be  made  to  believe 
that  he  was  instrumenal  in  introducing  the  pipe 
into  his  gun. 

After  a  few  more  unimportant  remarks,  the  con- 
versation ceased.  Nat's  adventure  began  to  appear 
to  me  in  a  different  light  from  that  in  which  I  had 
viewed  it  at  first.  I  doubted  not  but  that  he 
was  perfectly  honest  and  truthful  in  what  he  said. 
But  why,  when  exposed  to  the  will  of  the  savage, 
did  he  escape  unscathed?  Why  did  the  latter 
stand  fearless  and  harmless  before  him?  And  what 
meant  these  strange  signs,  these  "  footprints," 
which  were  becoming  visible  around  us?  Matters 
were  assuming  a  puzzling  form.  We  were  being 
environed    by    Indians    without    any    evidence    of 


BILL  BIDDOX,   TRAPPER.  n- 

hostility  upon  their  part.  What  meant  it?  Surely 
there  was  a  meaning  too  deep  and  hidden  for 
us  to  divine  as  yet. 

Suddenly  Nat  spoke. 

"  Don't  you  remember  the  canoe  ?  We  were 
going  to  hunt  for  that  to-day !  " 

''Ah!  how  did  I  forget  that?  But  had  we  not 
better  wait  till  Biddon  returns?" 

'*  No;  let  us  go  at  once.    Hark!  what's  that?" 

I  held  my  breath,  as  the  distant  report  of  a 
rifle  reached  our  ears.  The  next  instant  came  a 
sound,  faint  and  far  away  yet  clear  and  distinct — 
a  horrid,  unearthly  sound,  as  the  cry  of  a  being  in 
mortal  agony ! 


U6  BILL  BIDDON,  TRAPPER. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

STILL  IN  THE  DARK — THE   CANOE  AGAIN. 

For  a  moment  we  stood  breathless,  paralyzed 
and  speechless.  Then  our  eyes  sought  each  other 
with  a  look  of  fearful  inquiry. 

"Was  that  Biddon's  voice?"  I  asked,  in  a  faint 
whisper. 

"  I  don't  know.     There  it  is  again!  " 

And  again  came  that  wild,  howling  shriek  of 
such  agony  as  made  our  blood  curdle  within  us. 

"//  is  his  voice!  Let  us  hasten  to  his  aid,"  I 
exclaimed,  catching  my  rifle,  and  springing  out. 
Nat  followed  closely,  his  gun  having  been  re- 
loaded. The  cry  came  from  up  the  river  and  toward 
it  we  dashed,  scrambling  and  tearing  through  the 
brush  and  undergrowth,  like  two  maddened  animals, 
heedless  of  what  the  consequence  might  be. 
Several  times  we  halted  and  listened,  but  heard 
nothing  save  our  own  panting  breasts  and  leap- 
ing hearts.  On  again  we  dashed,  looking  hurriedly 
about  us,  until  I  knew  we  had  ascended  as  high  as 


BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER. 


117 


could  be  the  author  of  that  startling  cry.  Here 
we  paused  and  listened.  No  one  was  to  be 
seen.  I  turned  toward  Nat,  standing;  behind  me, 
and  directly  behind  him  I  saw  Biddon  slowly 
approaching. 

"What  are  you  doin'  here?"  he  asked,  as  he 
came  up. 

*'  Was  not  that  your  voice  which  I  just 
heard?" 

"  I  rather  reckon  it  wan't.  When  you  hear  Bill 
Biddon  bawl  out  in  that  way,  jist  let  me  know, 
will  yer?" 

"  What  under  the  sun  was  it  ? "  I  asked  then^ 
greatly  relieved. 

"  That's  more  nor  me  can  tell ;  but  shoot  and 
skin  me,  if  I  can't  tell  you  one  thing ; "  he  ap- 
proached closely  and  whispered,  "  there's  sunk- 
thin"  else  nor  reds  about  yer." 

"  WTiat  do  you  mean  ?  "  I  asked,  although  I  un- 
derstood well  enough  what  he  meant. 

"  I's  here  once  afore,  as  I  told  yer,  and  I  never 
heerd  sich  goin's  on  then.  I've  seed  the  tracks 
of  moccasins  all  about  the  traps,  but  can't  draw 
bead  on  the  shadder  of  a  redskin." 

"  You  heard  that  horrid  howl,  didn't  you  ?  " 

"  Heerd  it !    I  should  think  I  did." 

"Was  it  you  who  shot?" 


Jig  BILL  BIDDON,  TRAPPER. 

"Yes;  the  way  on  it  was  this:  I  got  on  a  purty 
plain  trail  and  follered  it  up  hereabouts,  when  I 
cotched  the  glimpse  of  a  Blackfoot's  feather  goin' 
down  through  the  bushes  there,  and  blazed  away 
at  him.  I  never  missed  a  red  in  my  life,  and  I 
didn't  miss  him.  Howsumever,  he  didn't  mind  it, 
but  kept  on  and  got  away,  and  jist  as  he  went  out 
of  sight  that  orful  yell  come.  It  didn't  seem  that 
he  made  it,  but  sounded  like  as  though  'twas  all 
about  me,  above  and  under  the  ground,  and  around 
and  behind  me."  , 

"  Anywhere  near  us  ?  "  asked  Nat. 

"  It  sounded  jist  under  your  feet  about." 

"Jerusha!"    exclaimed    the    affrighted    Nat,    as 
he  sprang  nervously  toward  me. 

"It  must  have  been  the  Indian,  surely,  who 
made  that  yell,"  said  I. 

"In  course;  though  things  are  beginnin'  to  look 
qua'rish  to  me." 

The  same  look  of  uneasiness  again  passed  over 
the  trapper's  face;  and  I  saw  that  although  he 
strove  to  hide  it,  he  was  by  no  means  at  rest. 
Matters  were  beginning  to  put  on  an  unusual 
aspect,  and  that  was  the  reason.  Give  the  trapper 
of  the  northwest  flesh  and  blood  to  contend  against, 
let  him  know  that  nothing  supernatural  is  arrayed 
against  him,  and  he  is  the  last  man  in  the  world 


BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER.  u^ 

to  yield  an  inch.  But  the  moment  he  sees  some- 
thing unexplainable  to  his  simple  mind,  (and  the 
trapper  is  a  credulous  being),  his  courage  deserts 
him.  He  believes  that  other  spirits  than  those  of 
men  visit  this  earth,  and  they  are  his  greatest  horror. 

"  Les'  go  home;  there's  Injins  all  around  us,'* 
pleaded  Nat. 

''  How'd  you  know  ?  " 

"  Because  I  seen  one  myself." 

Biddon  looked  inquiringly  at  me,  and,  deeming 
it  best,  I  related  the  incident  given  in  the  preced- 
ing chapter.  I  saw  at  once  his  uneasiness  was 
increased. 

"  Why  didn't  you  shoot  the  redskin  ?  "  he  angrily 
asked  of  Nat. 

"  Why  didn't  you  shoot  the  redskin  ?  "  queried 
Nat,  in  turn. 

*'  I  did — hit  him  fair  and  square  as  I  ever  hit 
anything." 

"  But  didn't  do  any  more  good  than  I  did." 

"  I  made  the  infarnal  imp  howl." 

"  And  I  made  mine  grunt/'  added  Nat,  trium- 
phantly. 

**  There  is  no  need  of  words,"  I  interposed. 
"  Each  of  you  did  your  best,  Nat  included.  You, 
Bill,  I  believe,  hit  your  man  and  mortally  wounded 
hint.     That  yell  was  of  agony,  though  I  can't  con- 


I20  BII^^  BIDDON,  TRAPPER. 

ceive  how  we  came  to  mistake  it  for  yours.  The 
dead  or  dying  body  of  that  Indian,  I  believe,  is  near 
at  hand.  See !  what  does  that  mean  ?  "  I  asked,  as  I 
detected  some  red  fluid  dripping  from  the  Hmb  of  a 
bush  to  the  earth.  The  trapper  stepped  forward 
and  looked  at  it. 

"That's  the  blood  of  a  Blackfoot,  or  I'm  a 
skinned  beaver !  "  he  remarked,  with  a  glow  of  re- 
lief at  having  those  strange  apprehensions  of  his 
removed. 

'*Yes,  Fm.  convinced  that's  Injin  blood,"  added 
Nat,  rubbing  it  between  the  tip  of  his  finger  and 
thumb.  *'  The  blood  of  a  Blackfoot  Injin,  too — a 
man's  about  thirty-two  years  old.  Probably  a 
brother  to  the  one  I  frightened." 

"  What  do  you  know  about  that  ?  "  I  asked. 

**  Oh !  it's  only  a  supposition  of  mine." 

**  Biddon,  I  believe,  as  I  just  said,  that  we  will 
find  the  body  of  that  savage  near  at  hand.  Let  us 
follow  it." 

"  Jes'  what  I's  agoin'  to  do,"  he  replied,  starting 
off  at  once  upon  the  trail. 

It  was  easy  to  follow,  as  every  step  was  marked 
by  blood,  which,  in  many  places,  was  dripping 
from  the  bushes  to  the  ground.  It  was  followed 
but  a  short  distance,  however,  as  it  led  in  a  direct 
line  to  the  river. 


BILL  BIDDON,  TRAPPER.  121 

"  It's  as  I  s'pected,"  said  Bidden,  turning  round 
in  disgust. 

"  He  must  have  drowned  then.'* 

"  Dunno  'bout  that.  He's  taken  to  the  water  to 
hide  his  trail,  an'  jes'  as  Hke  as  not  some  of  the 
other  painted  heathen  have  helped  him  off." 

"  No  doubt  about  that.  I've  been  thinking  that 
some  of  them  helped  off  that  fellow  when  I  was 
loading  my  gun." 

"  We  mought  as  well  go  back  agin,"  said  Biddon. 
"  I'm  tired  of  huntin'  spirits,  and  I  dunno  but  what 
we'd  better  move  traps  and  leave  this  plagued  place 
to  'em." 

''  That's  what  I  am  in  favor  of — " 

Nat  suddenly  paused,  for  Biddon,  with  a  slight 
"sh"  motioned  us  down.  We  both  sank  quickly 
and  silently  to  the  earth,  while  he,  in  a  crouching 
position,  gazed  stealthily  up-stream. 

"  What  is  it.  Bill  ?  "  whispered  Nat. 

"  There's  a  canoe  coniin'  down  stream!" 

We  said  nothing;  and  Nat  looking  meaningly  in 
the  water. 

"  Skin  me,  if  there  ain't  two  reds  and  a  squaw 
in  it,"  added  Biddon,  without  changing  his  position, 
or  removing  his  gaze. 

I  could  not  restrain  the  singular  agitation  that 


122  BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER. 

came  over  me  at  this  announcement.  Fearing-  to 
betray  myself,  I  cautiously  arose  beside  Biddon. 

"  Let  me  take  a  look,"  I  whispered. 

''  Be  keerful  you  ain't  seen,"  he  whispered,  in 
turn,  as  he  stepped  back. 

As  I  looked,  I  saw,  not  more  than  two  hun- 
dred yards  distant  the  canoe  approaching,  head- 
ing directly  towards  us.  For  this  reason,  I  could 
only  see  the  foremost  Indian,  though  I  was  positive 
another,  together  with  the  white  captive,  were  in 
it.  I  gazed  but  a  moment  and  then  looked  inquir- 
ingly at  the  trapper.  He  made  no  reply,  but  again 
peered  forth. 

"  That  ain't  a  squaw ;  it's  a  white  gal,"  said  he, 
looking  round  upon  us  with  an  astounded  look. 

*'  Shall  we  rescue  her?  I  asked. 

"  Ef  she  wants  us  to,  in  course." 

"  You  going  to  shoot  them  ? "  asked  Nat,  anx- 
iously. 

"  Can't  tell  yit.  Jest  see  that  yer  irons  is  ready, 
and  we'll  wait  till  they  get  out  yer.  Don't  make  no 
noise  till  I  give  the  motion." 

The  trapper  stole  a  yard  or  two  in  front  of 
us,  where  he  sank  softly  down  upon  his  face  until 
only  his  head  was  visible.  Nat  fingered  his  gun 
nervously  beside  me,  while  I,  not  a  whit  less  agi- 


BILL  BIVDON,   TRAPPER. 


123 


tated,  waited  for  the  canoe  to  appear  through  the 
interstices  of  the  bushes  in  front. 

In  a  moment,  I  heard  the  faint  ripple  of  an 
oar,  and  saw  the  trapper  slowly  raising  his  head 
and  bringing  his  rifle  in  front  of  him.  He  raised 
his  hand  warningly  for  us  to  remain  quiet  un''l  the 
moment  should  arrive.  I  heard  the  click  of  my 
companion's  gun,  as  he  raised  the  han-'mer,  and 
admonished  him  to  be  careful. 

Suddenly,  I  saw  the  red  head-dress  of  one  of  the 
savages  glittering  through  the  bushes,  and,  before  I 
could  speak,  came  an  explosion  beside  me  like  the 
crash  of  a  thunderbolt.  Almost  simultaneously,  the 
herculean  frame  of  the  trapper  bounded  over  me, 
and  he  exclaimed : 

"Who  fired  that?    I'm  shot." 

Nat  and  I  sprang  to  our  feet  and  dashed  after 
him ;  but  as  I  turned,  though  bewildered  with  excite- 
ment, I  looked  at  the  spot  where  the  canoe  was  seen. 
It  was  gone ! 

We  dashed  up  the  bank,  and  in  a  moment  reached 
Biddon.  The  excitement  had  completely  gone,  and 
he  stood  coolly  feeling  his  ear. 

"  Was  that  your  gun,  Jarsey  ?  ''  he  asked. 

"  No,  sir;  mine  is  still  loaded." 

"  How  is  yours,  Greeny?  " 

Nat   lifted   his,   examined    the   lock    and    looked 


124  ^^^^  BIDDON,  TRAPPER. 

into  the  barrel.  He  had  indeed  discharged  it, 
grazing  the  trapper's  head  so  closely  as  to  wound 
his  ear. 

"  Wonder  if  that  was  my  gun  ?  Sure,  I  believe 
it  was/'  he  remarked,  still  looking  into  the  barrel. 

""Vis  it  your  gun?"  repeated  the  trapper,  his 
brow  larkening  like  a  thunder-cloud,  and  laying  his 
hand  up'^n  his  knife-handle,  as  he  approached. 
Nat  looked  up  and  started  as  he  saw  his  visage 
fairly  gleaming  with  passion. 

"I  didn't  shoot  it.  Bill,  by  thunder!"  he  ex- 
postulated. 

The  face  of  the  trapper  changed.  It  grew  paler, 
and  the  dark  cloud  fled  from  it.  He  replaced  his 
drawn  knife.    He  believed  the  words  of  Nat. 

Matters  were  approaching  a  crisis.  The  recent 
startling  events  had  their  effect  upon  us  all.  The 
trapper  avowed  he  could  not  stand  "  sich  goin's  on," 
and  should  leave  for  some  other  quarters.  Little 
sleep  came  to  Nat  at  night.  His  adventure  with 
the  ravage,  and  the  more  recent  occurrence  alarmed 
him.  He  had  discovered  that  there  were  conse- 
quences to  be  feared  from  both  sides. 

I  was  still  unwilling  to  believe  that  there  was 
anything  in  the  events  given  which  would  not  soon 
be  explained.  It  was  evident  our  foes  were  around, 
and  from  some  inexplicable  cause,  had  pursued  an 


BILL  BIDDON,  TRAPPER.  125 

unusual  course  toward  us.  We  had  all  been 
exposed  to  their  power,  and  had  yet  escaped  harm- 
less. What  was  the  meaning  of  this?  And,  above 
all,  what  was  the  object  of  the  appearance  and 
disappearance  of  the  canoe  at  the  different  times 
mentioned  ?  Who  could  be  that  fair  being  of  whose 
existence  I  only  was  as  yet  aware? 

These  questions,  prompted  only  my  anxious  curi- 
osity and  desire  to  learn  more  of  that  mysterious 
being  whom  I  had  now  twice  seen.  I  ridiculed  the 
ideas  of  Biddon,  and  Nat  strove  hard  to  convince 
him  that  he  was  not  afraid.  Biddon,  consented  to 
remain  until  more  was  learned,  intimating  at  the 
same  time,  that  it  must  be  very  soon.  He  visited 
the  horses  each  day,  and  found  them  undisturbed. 
This,  however,  only  added  to  his  anxiety.  Had  they 
been  gone  he  would  have  taken  it  as  convincing 
evidence  that  bona  Me  Indians  were  in  the  neigh- 
borhood. 

The  next  day,  after  the  closing  scene  of  the  last 
chapter,  Nat  agreed  to  accompany  me  for  the  last 
time  to  the  spot  where  we  had  seen  the  canoe.  The 
trapper  could  not  be  prevailed  upon  to  go,  affirming 
that  he  should  probably  have  his  hands  full  at  home. 
It  required  my  utmost  skill  to  succeed  with  Nat,  as 
the  horror  had  plainly  settled  upon  him. 

"  It's    awful ! "    said    he,    as    we    started,    '*'  this 


126  ^l^L,  BIDDON,   TRAPPER. 

walking  right  into  danger,  but  I  want  to  see  that 
canoe  agin,  but  especially  that  gal,  and  so  Fll  go." 

''And,  I  trust,  behave  yourself.  You  well  know, 
Nat,  you  fired  that  shot  which  came  so  near  ending 
Biddon's  life." 

"  Wonder  if  I  did  pull  the  trigger ! "  he  ex- 
claimed, suddenly  stopping  and  looking  round  at 
me. 

"  You  know  you  did,  and  had  he  known  it, 
too,  it  would  have  been  a  sorry  piece  of  business 
for  you.  That  temper  of  his  is  terrible,  when  it  is 
once  excited." 

"  I  remember  cocking  my  gun,  and  kind  of 
pulling  the  trigger,  but  I  didn't  mean  to  pull  hard 
enough  to  make  it  go  off." 

"  I  suppose  not.  I  cannot  conceive  how  Biddon 
persuaded  himself  to  believe  that  you  did  not  dis- 
charge it  when  the  case  was  self-evident.  But  he 
is  willing  to  believe  almost  anything  since  he  has 
started." 

"  He  shouldn't  have  gotten  before  my  gun,  for 
he  knows  my  hand  sometimes  trembles." 

"  I  trust  you  will  be  able  to  control  it  this  time." 

"  No  doubt  of  that ;  but,  then,  I'd  advise  you,  as  a 
friend,  not  to  get  before  me,  especially  if  you  sec 
the  canoe  coming." 

I  assured  him  that  I  should  not,  and  we  kept 


BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER.  127 

Upon  our  way.  Upon  each  of  the  occasions  before, 
as  near  as  I  could  judge,  it  was  about  noon  that 
the  canoe  made  its  appearance;  and,  as  it  was  that 
time  now,  we  hurried  forward,  lest  the  opportunity 
should  pass.  The  opportunity,  I  say — for,  although 
it  had  appeared  but  twice  as  yet,  I  somehow  or 
other  was  well  satisfied  we  should  see  it  again. 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  ?  "  asked  Nat. 

"  It  will  depend  upon  what  we  see.  If  simply 
those  two  savages  with  the  captive,  as  we  judge  her 
to  be,  are  in  the  canoe,  and  no  demonstration  is 
made,  I  think  it  best  not  to  attempt  a  rescue.  It  is 
only  a  supposition  of  ours  that  she  is  a  captive,  and 
we  know  not  that  she  would  thank  us  for  inter- 
fering in  her  case." 

In  a  short  time  we  reached  the  elevation  al- 
ready mentioned.  Here  we  seated  ourselves  so  as 
to  remain  concealed  from  any  stragglers  in  the 
vicinity,  while  we  ourselves  with  a  little  care  could 
detect  the  slightest  object  passing.  As  I  stooped, 
my  hand  came  in  contact  with  something  cold,  and 
upon  looking  at  it,  I  saw  it  covered  with  dark  clotted 
blood.  I  started,  and  wiped  it  on  the  grass,  but  it 
sent  a  shudder  through  me  to  reflect  that  it  had  once 
been  the  life-fluid  of  a  human  being. 

"  Ugh  !  "  exclaimed  Nat ;  "  ain't  that  awful  ?  " 

"  It  is  disagreeable,  to  say  the  least." 


128  BILL  BIDDON,  TRAPPER, 

"Just  look  at  the  blood  on  the  grass,  too,  and 
all  around.  I  believe  Bill  must  have  hit  a  half- 
dozen  In j  ins  sure,  the  v^^ay  things  appear  here." 

"  He  must  have  wounded  one  terribly  to  make 
him  bleed  like  this." 

"  And  if  he  had  been  a  flesh  and  blood  Injin  he 
would  have  never  tramped  in  that  manner.  I  tell 
you,  William  Relmond,  there  is  something  more 
more  than  human  about  us.  I  can  feel  it  in  my 
bones,  and  I'm  of  Biddon's  opinion  that  the  sooner 
v/e  get  away  from  here  the  better." 

'*  Fudge !  I  see  you  are  beginning  to  get 
alarmed." 

"  Oh  no ;  you  are  mistaken.  I  am  not  frightened 
at  all.  For  Biddon's  sake,  but  more  especially  for 
yours,  I  am  anxious.  If  you  are  desirous  of  remain- 
ing hereabouts,  and  will  take  all  the  consequences, 
I  will  make  no  objections." 

"  Of  course,  if  I  run  into  danger  of  my  own 
accord,  I  expect  that  I  alone  will  suffer  the 
penalty." 

"  Then  we  needn't  say  anything  more  about  it ; 
you  know  we  pledged  ourselves  to  remain  true  to 
each  other,  and  I  won't  desert  you." 

"  That's  well  spoken,  Nat.  The  minute  I  am 
satisfied  that  our  lives  are  imperiled,  I  shall  not 
be  the  means  of  prolonging  that  peril  a  moment. 


BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER,  120 

It  is  only  this  great  desire  to  solve  and  under- 
stand the  singular  occurrences  that  are  transpiring 
around  us,  that  leads  me  to  still  remain.  I  have 
determined  that  to-day  we  shall  all  be  satisfied." 

"  My  curiosity  is  extraordinarily  high ;  but  I  guess 
that  gal  has  as  much  to  do  with  it  as  anything 
else.  I'm  determined  to  get  a  glimpse  of  her  face, 
and,  if  possible,  whisper  in  her  ear  that  Nat  Todd, 
from  Maine,  is  about.  I  flatter  myself  that  the 
minute  she  knows  that,  she  will  jump  overboard 
and  make  for  shore  without  saying  a  word  to  the 
chaps  with  her." 

"  The  greatest  difficulty,  I  fear,  will  be  to  con- 
vey your  words  to  the  captive,  without  conveying  it 
also  to  her  captors." 

"  I  swow,  it  would  be  harder  than  I  thought  at 
first." 

During  this  conversation,  which  was  carried 
on  in  a  half-whisper,  Nat  was  constantly  parting 
the  bushes  and  peering  through  them,  while  now 
and  then  I  glanced  expectantly  up  the  stream; 
but  nothing  as  yet  had  rewarded  our  watchfulness. 
Suddenly  I  reflected  that  as  I  had  been  twice 
defeated  in  observing  the  disappearance  of  the 
canoe,  from  the  exact  spot  upon  which  we  were 
now  seated,  that  we  might  make  a  better  arrange- 


130  BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER. 

ment  of  ourselves,  so  as  to  insure  this  coveted 
knowledge  to  one  of  us  at  least. 

I  mentioned  this  to  Nat. 

"  If  one  of  us  was  on  t'other  side,  the  thing 
would  be  certain,  but  that  can't  be  done  very  con- 
veniently, and  we  shall  have  to  try  something  else.'* 

"  Suppose  you  go  down  stream  about  a  hundred 
yards  near  the  bend  yonder,"  I  proposed  to  Nat. 

"  Guess  I  will !  "  he  exclaimed,  as  he  rose  to  go. 

*'  Wait  a  moment,"  said  I,  detaining  him.  *'  Let 
me  admonish  you  to  exercise  no  ordinary  caution, 
Nat,  for  you  have  seen  enough  to  convince  you 
that  your  own  safety  depends  upon  it.  Remember 
that  a  word  or  false  movement,  however  slight, 
may  defeat  our  plans.  Look  out  for  danger  to 
yourself,  and  not  let  your  curiosity  be  the  means 
of  your  destruction.     Be  very  careful." 

I  know  not  what  led  me  to  thus  warn  him ;  but  at 
the  moment  he  arose  to  go,  an  unaccountable  sense 
of  impending  danger  came  over  me.  It  was  not  so 
much  for  me  as  for  him  I  spoke  thus.  He  promised 
to  heed  my  words  and  departed. 

As  soon  as  he  had  disappeared,  I  cast  another 
look  up  stream,  but  still  there  were  no  signs  of  the 
expected  canoe,  and  a  sudden  apprehension  that  I 
should  not  see  it  again  came  over  me.  There 
was,  in  fact;  as  much  reason  not  to  expect  it  as  to 


BILL  BIDDON,  TRAPPER.  131 

anticipate  its  coming,  and  as  I  looked  up  at  the 
sun  and  saw  that  it  was  already  beyond  the  hour, 
I  was  half-tempted  to  turn  back.  While  I  was 
debating,  I  naturally  looked  up  the  river,  and  there, 
just  rounding  the  bend  where  the  canoe  had  first 
come  into  view  before, — and  there  it  was  coming! 
Quivering  with  agitation,  I  sank  upon  the  ground, 
and  gave  a  low  whistle  as  a  signal  to  Nat.  He 
returned  it,  as  an  evidence  of  his  watchfulness. 

I  saw  from  that  point  where  I  was  seated,  the 
view  would  be  most  obstructed  when  the  canoe 
was  nearest.  Accordingly,  I  crept  cautiously  and 
quickly  nearer  the  water's  edge.  This  time,  how- 
ever, I  slightly  varied  my  course,  and  concealed 
myself  behind  the  trunk  of  a  fallen  tree.  This  was 
within  a  yard  of  the  water,  and  afforded  complete 
concealment.  I  noticed  the  log  was  rotten  and 
apparently  hollow. 

Here  I  lay,  and  intently  listened  and  watched. 
A  few  moments  and  an  almost  inaudible  ripple  was 
heard,  and  the  canoe  was  opposite.  I  exercised 
the  most  extreme  caution,  and  was  fortunate 
enough  to  obtain  a  perfect  view  of  each  of  the 
occupants.  They  were  the  same — the  dark,  malig- 
nant faces  of  the  savages,  and  the  fair  features  of 
the  captive.  She  sat  in  the  stern,  her  hand  resting 
gently  upon  a  guiding  oar,  and  her  gaze  fixed  upon 


IJ2  B^^^  BIDDON,  TRAPPER, 

the  stream  In  front.  The  canoe  floated  with  the 
current,  and  not  a  paddle  was  stirred,  nor  the  least 
motion  made  by  the  beings  before  me.  The  head- 
dress of  the  captive  was,  as  mentioned  before,  eagle 
feathers  and  porcupine  quills,  while  the  dark,  wav- 
ing masses  of  hair  hung  low  upon  the  shoulders, 
contrasting  with  the  whiteness  of  the  face.  A 
heavy  crimson  shawl  enveloped  the  form,  as  when 
first  seen.  The  features  were  regular,  and,  perhaps, 
in  my  state  of  feeling,  their  beauty  was  consider- 
ably enhanced;  but  the  thought  came  upon  me  that 
if  there  were  anything  supernatural  in  my  experi- 
ence, it  was  in  seeing  such  wonderful  beauty  as 
was  now  before  me. 

Unconsciously  I  forgot  myself  as  the  canoe  was 
gliding  past,  and  before  I  was  aware,  it  was  hid 
from  view  by  intervening  obstacles.  I  withdrew 
hastily,  intending  to  hurry  farther  down,  where 
the  view  would  be  more  complete.  I  had  taken  but 
a  step  or  two  when  Nat's  rifle  was  discharged,  and 
I  heard  distinctly  a  muffled  sound  of  his  voice. 
Wild  with  agitation,  I  dashed  to  the  spot  where  I 
supposed  him  to  be.  The  view  of  the  river  at  this 
point  was  clear,  and  I  turned  to  look  at  the  canoe. 
It  had  vanished ! 

I  looked  around  for  Nat,  but  he  too,  was  gone. 
I   called  him,   and  once  thought  I  heard   a    faint 


BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER.  133 

answer.  But  it  was  not  repeated,  and  I  could  not 
tell  its  direction.  I  reached  the  ground,  and  beheld 
the  tracks  of  others  beside  his  own.  I  awaited 
until  near  night,  but  Nathan  Todd  was  never  to 
return. 


134 


BILL  BIDDON,  TRAPPER, 


CHAPTER  VII. 

ALONE  IN  THE  WILDERNESS. 

**  Where's  your  friend  ?  " 

There  was  apprehension  in  the  question  of  the 
trapper,  or  he  would  not  have  called  Nat,  as  he  had 
never  called  him  before.  The  question  was  asked, 
too,  the  instant  I  appeared. 

*'  I  cannot  tell,"  I  answered,  seating  myself 
gloomily. 

"  Whar'd  you  leave  him  ?  " 

"  I  cannot  answer  that  either.  He  went  with  me 
to  watch  the  river,  as  you  remember.  Espying 
that  canoe  which  you  saw  yesterday,  he  concealed 
himself  a  few  yards  distant,  in  order  to  obtain  a 
better  view  of  it.  Since  then  I  have  seen  nothing 
of  him." 

"Was  it  he  who  shot?" 

"  It  sounded  like  his  gun,  although  I  am  not  posi- 
tive that  it  really  was." 

"  I  heerd  it,  an'  took  it  for  him ;  and,  shoot  me,  if 
I  didn't  know  he'd  get  into  some  scrape." 


BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER.  135 

**  I  fear  he  has,  and  the  last  one,  too." 

"  My  thoughts  'zactly.  Luckily  you  did  not, 
too." 

"  I  came  nearer  than  I  wish  to  again,  Biddon.  I 
can  tell  you,  that  I  am  willing  to  leave  this  place  as 
soon  as  you  wish;  I've  seen  enough  to  satisfy 
me. 

"  Shouldn't  wonder ;  I  did  long  ago." 

*' Let  us  leave  to-morrow.     Are  you  willing?" 

"  ril  go  to-night  if  you  want  to." 

"  No ;  there  is  no  need  of  that.  It  will  be  best  to 
wait  until  daylight." 

"  I  don't  know ;  that's  the  only  time  we've  been 
interfered  with." 

"  Besides,"  I  added.  "  I  have  faint  hopes  that 
Nat  may  return." 

"  Waugh !  you'll  never  see  him  again,  and  ef 
we're  'bout  yer  another  day,  we'll  never  see  each 
other  again.  No  use  lookin'  fur  him,  shoot  me  ef 
thar  is." 

''  I  do  not  think  he  has  been  slain,  only  captured 
by  some  lurking  enemy,  from  whom  he  may 
escape." 

*'  No,  sir;  I  tell  you  he's  gone,  and  I  reckon  as 
how  we'd  better  be  gone  too." 

*'  Perhaps  you  are  right,  Biddon,  although  I  shall 


136  BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER. 

be  loth  to  leave  the  vicinity  when  I  am  not  satisfied 
of  his  fate." 

"  I'm  satisfied,  an*  you  oughter  be.  Leastways, 
I'm  go'm'  to-morrow,  an'  you  kin  stay  and  play  with 
these  Blackfeet  as  long  as  you  like.  I've  been  up  to 
see  the  horses,  and  fixed  things  so  as  to  start  as 
soon  as  daylight.     Any  'jections?" 

"  None  at  all." 

*'  Then  'tis  settled,  and  let's  snooze." 

But  it  was  by  no  means  settled.  As  I  lay  that 
night  ruminating  upon  the  strange  scenes  through 
which  I  had  so  recently  passed,  the  pledge  that  I 
had  made  with  Nat  came  back  to  me.  I  had 
promised  to  remain  by  him  as  long  as  there  was 
hope ;  and  to  desert  him  now,  would  be  a  violation 
of  that  vow,  and  a  base  and  unworthy  act  upon 
my  part.  For  us  both  to  leave  him  would  probably 
seal  his  fate,  if  alive.  It  was  by  no  means  cer- 
tain that  if  lost,  he  was  irrecoverably  gone,  and  I  re- 
solved that  if  the  trapper  should  depart  on  the 
morrow  I  would  remain. 

In  making  this  resolution,  perhaps  it  was  not  the 
desire  alone  to  benefit  my  companion  that  prompted 
it,  although  I  aver  that  that  alone  would  have  been 
sufficient.  Unconsciously,  almost,  I  found  nw 
thoughts  wandering  from  Nat  to  the  fair  being 
who  had  been  the  cause  of  all  this  trouble.     At 


BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER.  137 

most,  I  could  only  speculate  and  conjecture  with 
regard  to  her,  and  the  same  speculations  and  con- 
jectures I  had  made  before.  Undoubtedly  she  was 
a  captive  among  a  tribe  of  Indians,  over  whorri  she 
wielded  a  great  influence;  and  that  she  was  the 
same  maid  referred  to  by  Biddon,  seemed  certain  to 
me.  I  had  mentioned  this  thought  to  him,  in  the 
hope  of  persuading  him  to  remain.  He  started 
somewhat  at  the  unsuspected  suggestion,  and,  after 
a  few  moments'  thought,  admitted  the  probability 
of  such  being  the  case.  To  my  surprise  I  found  I 
had  completely  defeated  my  own  plans. 

"  I  kinder  thought  then,  that  little  thing  war 
suthin'  more  nor  human,  an'  ef  it's  her,  you  see, 
I'm  purty  sure  now.  No  use  talkin',  I  shan't  stay 
here  longer  than  time  'nough  to  start.  It  might  be 
that  gal,  and  then  agin  it  moughn't.  Shoot  me  ef 
it  moughn't." 

I  said  no  more,  for  I  saw  it  would  be  useless. 
When  he  had  once  determined  upon  a  matter  there 
was  no  changing  him.  He  was  satisfied  that 
"  spirits  invisible  "  had  encompassed  him,  and  there 
was  but  one  way  of  escapng  them. 

He  was  now  reposing  quietly  beside  me,  utterly 
oblivious  to  external  things;  and  as  the  night  was 
far  advanced,  I  sank  upon  my  knees,  and  besought 
the  great  Disposer  of  events  to  guide  me  aright 


138  •B/LI'  BIDDON,   TRAPPER. 

in  the  undertaking  which  I  was  about  to  commence, 
and  to  watch  over  my  unfortunate  companion,  now 
doubtless  in  captivity;  to  protect  the  kind-hearted 
trapper,  and  to  soon  clear  away  the  mystery  which 
had  enveloped  us  like  a  cloud.  Then  I  lay  down 
and  slept. 

I  awoke,  hearing  a  slight  rustling  noise  beside 
me,  and,  upon  looking  around,  caught  a  glimpse 
of  Biddon  as  he  departed.  It  was  very  early,  and  he 
doubtless  was  after  the  horses,  in  order  to  leave  at 
once  the  place  which  had  such  terrors  for  him.  In 
the  course  of  a  half  hour  he  returned. 

"  The  horses  are  waitinV'  said  he. 

I  arose  and  passed  out.  The  three  animals  stood 
outside,  a  short  distance  away,  each  saddled  and 
prepared  for  travel. 

"  Come,  work  lively,  and  fetch  them  skins 
out,"  said  Biddon,  commencing  himself.  I  made 
no  reply,  but  assisted  him  until  everything  was 
in  readiness,  for  starting. 

"  Jump  on,  and  shoot  me  ef  we  won't  soon  be 
clar  of  this  outlandish  place." 

"  Biddon,  I  am  not  going  with  you"  I  said, 
mildly. 

"  What?  "  he  asked,  looking  wonderingly  at  one, 
as  if  doubting  my  senses. 

"  I  intend  to  remain  here." 


BILL  BIDDON,  TRAPPER.  139 

*Ogh!  jump  on,  an'  shut  up  yer  meat-trap;  it's 
tittle  we  started." 

"  I  said  I  was  going  to  remain  here." 

"  Do  you  mean  it,  Jarsey  ?  "  he  queried,  bending 
such  a  fierce  look  upon  me. 

"  Most  certainly  I  do." 

"  Then,  all  Bill  Biddon's  got  to  say  is,  you're 
a  fool." 

I  colored  slightly  at  this,  but  made  no  reply. 

"  What  yer  going  to  stay  fur  ?  Get  shot  and 
lose  yer  ha'r,  I  s'pose,  jist  to  please  the  reds." 

"  I  am  sorry,  friend  Biddon,  that  you  feel  thus. 
When  Nathan  Todd  and  I  left  the  States  for  this 
country,  we  pledged  eternal  friendship  to  each 
other,  and  I  am  sure  I  should  never  feel  at  ease 
if  I  should  leave  him  in  this  dire  extremity.  I  am 
by  no  means  satisfied  that  I  can  afford  him  no 
assistance,  although  he  is  a  captive.  He  has  no 
claims  upon  you,  and  I  should  not  expect  you  to 
remain,  but,  as  I  said,  I  am  determined  not  to  leave 
this  place  until  I  have  obtained  satisfactory  in- 
telligence of  him." 

The  trapper  remained  silent  a  few  moments  after 
this.    He  then  spoke : 

"  I  s'pose  you  mean  right,  Jarsey,  but  you're 
awful  simple.  Yer's  as  what  hopes  you'll  find  the 
other  chap  right  side  up  and  squar  with  his  ha'r  on. 


I^o  BILL  BIDDON,  TRAPPER. 

but  I  don't  'spect  your  ha'r  '11  bf  yer's  to-night. 
Howsumever  you're  bound  to  stay,  I  see,  so  yer's 
good  luck.  I'd  like  to  stay  with  you,  but  I  ain't 
backward  to  own  Bill  Biddon  knocks  under  this 
time." 

He  reached  his  hard,  horny  hand,  and  I  took  it. 

"  Good-by,  Bill,  I  hope  we  shall  meet  again.  We 
have  not  been  long  acquainted,  but  I  trust  long 
enough  to  be  friends." 

"  And  you'll  remember  as  how  ole  Bill  Biddon 
didn't  mean  what  he  said  just  now." 

"  Certainly,  certainly,  I  know  you  did  not." 

"Wal,  good-by  it  is,  then." 

A  half-hour  after  and  I  was  alone  in  the  great 
wilderness  of  the  Northwest. 

After  parting  with  Biddon,  I  remained  stationary 
a  long  time,  meditating  upon  the  strange  resolve 
that  I  had  acted  upon.  If  looked  at  with  the  com- 
mon-sense view  that  the  honest  trapper  gave  it,  I 
was  sensible  it  was  nothing  less  than  a  piece  of 
recklessness  upon  my  part,  which  only  could  be 
excused  by  the  motives  that  actuated  me.  I  felt 
some  regret  certainly  at  parting  with  Biddon,  for 
that  honest,  manly  heart  which  throbbed  within 
his  massive  breast  had  drawn  me  toward  him,  and 
I  knew  he  had  come  to  regard  me  in  a  far  different 
light  than  he  did  at  first.    However,  I  was  hopeful, 


BILL  BIDDON,  TRAPPER.  141 

and  could  not  persuade  myself  that  I  was  never  to 
see  him  again. 

Toward  night  the  sky  gave  evidence  of  an  ap- 
proaching   storm.      A    strong    wind    arose,    and    a 
melancholy,    desolate    moaning,   like   the   precursor 
of  winter,  could  be  heard  at  intervals  in  the  forest. 
Darkness   came   on   earlier   than   usual,   and,   as   I 
passed    into   the   trapper's   home,    the    storm   burst 
upon  me.     No  one  who  has  not  witnessed  a  storm 
in   the   wilderness,   can  appreciate   its   awful   gran- 
deur.    As   I   cowered  within  the  heart  of  the  old 
forest   king,   its   power  was   subdued   to   my   ears; 
but  enough   reached  them  to  give  me  an  idea  of 
the  terrific   spectacle  without.     The  huge  sides  of 
the  tree  surrounding  me  rumbled  and  groaned  as 
though  it  were  yielding  to  the  hurricane ;  the  wind 
blew  with   such   fury  that  at  times   it   sounded  as 
though  wailing  screams  were  rending  the  air  above 
me ;  and  the  sharp  splintering  of  the  trees  riven  by 
the  lightning,  rivaled  the  crash  of  the  thunderbolt 

itself. 

As  the  morning  approached,  the  storm  gradu- 
ally died  away,  and  as  I  stepped  forth  the  sun  was 
shining  in  unclouded  splendor. 

Slinging  my  rifle  over  my  shoulder,  I  wandered 
aimlessly  forward,  following  the  course  of  the 
stream  for  several  hours.     Finally,  becoming  con- 


1^2  BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER. 

siderably  wearied,  I  seated  myself  upon  a  fallen 
tree,  to  gain  a  little  rest;  but  my  mind  was  in  such 
a  state  of  excitement  that  the  desire  to  press  for- 
ward was  irresistible,  and  I  arose  again. 

As  I  stood  upon  the  spot,  I  happened  to  look 
across  the  stream  upon  the  prairie.  The  river  at 
this  point  was  flowing  east  and  west,  so  that  I 
looked  to  the  southward ;  and  as  I  did  so  I  saw 
Biddon  in  the  distance,,  riding  leisurely  away.  He 
was  miles  distant,  so  that  I  could  not  hope  to  make 
my  voice  reach  him ;  and  as  the  prairie  in  many 
parts  was  submerged,  it  was  out  of  the  question  to 
pursue  with  the  hope  of  overtaking  him.  So  I 
contented  myself  with  watching  him  until  he  dis- 
appeared. He  appeared  precisely  the  same  as 
when  Nat  and  I  first  caught  sight  of  him;  and  it 
struck  me  as  a  rather  curious  coincidence  that  my 
first  and  last  glimpse  of  him  were  similar.  Shortly 
after,  he  was  a  mere  quivering  speck  on  the  hori- 
zon, and  soon  disappeared  altogether. 

The  storm  which  had  just  ended  was  the  usher 
of  the  cold  season.  A  strong  wind  had  arisen, 
and  was  blowing  coldly  through  the  forest.  The 
changes  in  these  regions  are  remarkably  sudden; 
and  by  the  middle  of  the  afternoon,  needles  of  ice 
put  out  along  the  shores  of  the  stream.  I  suffered 
much  from  this  sudden  and  severe  cold;  and  to 


BILL  BIDDON,  TRAPPER.  143 

make  it  worse,  everything  upon  which  I  could  lay 
hands  was  so  water-soaked  as  to  make  it  impossible 
to  kindle  a  fire. 

I  continued  wandering  aimlessly  onward,  until 
I  descended  a  large  valley,  filled  with  trees  of  enor- 
mous growth.  As  I  entered,  I  heard  a  crackling 
in  the  bushes  above  me.  I  looked  carefully  about, 
but  could  detect  nothing,  although  the  crackling 
was  still  heard.  Creeping  cautiously  and  stealthily 
up  the  bank,  I  cam;e  upon  the  cause  of  this 
apprehension.  There  was  a  species  of  fruit,  called 
the  "  buffalo  berry,"  quite  numerous  here,  and  in 
among  them,  seated  on  his  haunches,  and  con- 
tentedly devouring,  was  a  grizzly  bear.  I  started  as 
I  took  in  his  colossal  form,  and  turned  to  make  a 
hasty  retreat;  but  curiosity  held  me  to  the  spot. 
He  was  a  huge,  unwieldy  body;  his  massive  form 
being  enveloped  in  a  coat  of  long,  black,  glossy  hair, 
and  his  eyes  small  and  glittering.  His  long  nails 
rattled  among  the  leaves,  as  he  pulled  the  bushes 
toward  him,  and  plucked  the  delicate  fruit. 

All  at  once  a  mad  desire  to  take  this  formidable 
creature's  life  came  upon  me.  I  knew  it  was  only 
the  most  skillful  hunter  who  could  prevail  against 
him,  and  yet  I  determined  to  take  the  risk.  As  he 
sat,  his  side  was  turned  toward  me,  and  I  made  a 
low  whistle  to  attract  his  attention.     He  stopped 


144  ^^^^  BIDDON,  TRAPPER. 

chewing  instantly,  and  turned  his  head  toward  me 
as  if  listening.  I  could  see  his  two  coal-black 
eyes  glistening  plainly.  I  was  lying  upon  my  face, 
with  my  rifle  resting  upon  a  stone  in  front.  Rais- 
ing the  hammer  of  my  rifle,  I  took  a  long,  a  delib- 
erate, a  sure  aim  at  one  of  his  eyes,  and  before  he 
changed  his  head,  pulled  the  trigger.         , 

''  How  does  that  suit  ?  "  I  asked  exultingly,  ex- 
pecting to  see  him  give  up  the  ghost  immediately. 
To  my  surprise  and  terror,  I  saw  him  sitting  un- 
moved and  apparently  unhurt,  but  looking  about 
him,  as  if  to  ascertain  from  what  direction  the  shot 
had  come.  The  next  instant  he  caught  sight  of  the 
bluish  wreath  from  my  rifle,  and  with  a  low  growl 
of  rage  plunged  directly  toward  me. 

That  cumbrous  body  could  roll  over  th«  ground 
much  faster  than  I  suspected,  and  I  found  that, 
when  alarmed,  I  could  also  travel  rapidly.  But  in 
the  tangled  undergrowth  I  was  no  match  for 
him,  as  he  crashed  through  it  without  the  least 
inconvenience,  and  gained  rapidly.  I  saw  he  would 
assuredly  overtake  me  before  I  could  go  a  hundred 
yards  further;  so  throwing  my  rifle  to  the  ground, 
I  drew  my  knife,  and  waited  his  attack.  As  he 
came  rolling  forward,  the  blood  from  his  wound 
trickled  down,  and  daubed  his  mouth ;  while  his  red 
tongue  lolled  out,  his  mouth  was  wide  open,  and 


**  I  could  see  his  two  coal-black  eyes  glittering  plainly." 


BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER.  j^j 

his  long  and  white  teeth  shone  with  terrible  feroc- 
ity. He  was,  indeed,  a  terrific  animal,  and  I  drew 
a  deep  breath  as  I  felt  that  a  struggle  for  life  or 
death  was  at  hand. 

Suddenly,  when  a  hundred  feet  distant,  there 
came  the  report  of  another  riUe,  and  the  brute 
halted,  and  gazed  about  him.  I  also  cast  a  won- 
dering look  around  to  see  who  my  new  friend  was. 
No  one  was  in  sight,  yet  I  saw  a  faint  curl  of 
smoke  rising  from  the  bushes  above  me.  The 
bear  also  discovered  it,  and  with  another  growl 
made  toward  it.  He  had  evidently  been  struck, 
and  his  rage  was  turned  in  another  direction. 
Hastily  loading  my  rifle,  I  ran  up  the  hill,  intending 
to  follow  and  assist  my  unknown  friend,  but  both 
he  and  the  brute  had  disappeared.  I  stood  anx- 
iously listening  for  some  guiding  sound,  and  soon 
heard  the  report  of  a  gun  in  the  distance,  followed 
by  a  faint  shout. 

Tearing  through  the  undergrowth,  I  dashed 
hastily  forward,  calling  out  in  loud  tones,  so  that 
my  friend  might  guide  me  to  him.  There  was  no 
response  homeward.  I  feared  that  he  had  suffered 
the  fate  which  had  well-nigh  been  mine.  The 
trail  of  the  bear  was  now  very  plain  to  be  seen  by 
the  broken  twigs,  the  rising  branches,  and  the  blood 
marks  upon  the  ground.     Soon  I  reached  the  spot 


148  ^I^^  BIDDON,   TRAPPER. 

where  the  last  struggle  had  evidently  taken  place. 
The  ground  was  torn  up  and  cast  about,  and  the 
blood  was  spattered  for  many  feet  around.  Fol- 
lowing further,  I  came  upon  the  dead  body  of  the 
brute.  There  was  another  bullet  mark  in  the 
head,  and  a  ghastly  wound  in  the  throat  from 
which  an  enormous  quantity  of  blood  had  poured. 

But  where  was  the  author  of  this  deed?  Why 
had  he  fled  ?  Who  was  he  ?  I  looked  about  expect- 
ing to  see  him  near  at  hand,  but  I  was  disappointed. 
On  the  ground  were  the  marks  of  a  moccasin,  and 
it  was  evident  my  preserver  was  an  Indian.  This 
fact  suggested  other  questions.  Had  he  been  fol- 
lowing me?  Else  how  came  he  to  be  present  just 
at  the  instant  needed?  And  what  was  his  object? 
It  could  not  be  that  my  life  was  sought,  for,  if 
such  were  the  case,  it  had  been  really  spared,  as  I 
had  been  continually  exposed  through  the  day ;  and 
in  the  occurrence  just  narrated,  he  had  preserved 
my  life  at  the  imminent  risk  of  his  own. 

At  any  rate,  the  affair  was  singular  and  unac- 
countable. The  Indian  was  probably  gazing  upon 
me  this  moment,  and  I  looked  furtively  about, 
half-expecting  to  see  his  glowing  eye-balls  in  the 
thick  shrubbery  around. 

It  was  now  growing  late,  and  I  cast  about  for 
some  place  in  which  to  spend  the  night.    The  wind 


BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER.  j^g 

ctill  blew,  and  a  fire  was  indispensable.  I  gathered 
several  armfuls  of  twigs  and  branches,  and  pitched 
my  camp  upon  the  banks  of  a  small  rippling 
stream,  a  tributary  of  the  river  referred  to.  Here, 
after  the  expense  of  an  almost  incredible  amount 
of  patience,  I  succeeded  in  starting  a  fire,  and  with 
the  feeling  of  a  conqueror  inhaled  its  glowing, 
cheerful  warmth.  The  pangs  of  hunger  now  began 
to  make  themselves  felt,  as  I  had  tasted  no  food 
the  entire  day.  The  grizzly  bear  lay  but  a  short 
distance  away,  and,  after  a  few  minutes'  debate,  I 
concluded  that  he  should  answer  the  demands  of 
nature. 

As  I  drew  my  knife,  and  started  toward  him, 
a  shadow  glided  from  before  me,  and  I  saw  a 
human  form  stealthily  make  off.  I  stopped  sud- 
denly and  hesitated,  but  finally  went  on,  cut  a  piece 
from  the  animal,  and  returned.  Just  before  I 
reached  the  crackling  fire,  I  again  saw  a  shadow 
flit  before  me  and  disappear.  It  was  too  distinct 
and  plain  to  be  a  freak  of  imagination,  and  it  was 
evident  that  something  or  somebody  was  following 
or  watching.  Whoever  he  might  be,  I  determined 
that,  upon  the  first  opportunity,  he  should  have 
the  contents  of  my  gun  for  his  temerity. 

The  consciousness  that  some  one  was  near  at 
hand,  watching,  perhaps,  every  motion,  lessened  my 


I^O  ^^^^  BIDDON,   TRAPPER. 

appetite  somewhat.  However,  after  skewering  a 
good-sized  piece  and  roasting  it,  I  made  a  hearty 
supper;  and,  as  I  produced  my  inseparable  pipe,  I 
think,  had  it  not  been  for  the  instinctive  presence 
of  that  invisible  form,  my  enjoyment  would  have 
been  complete. 

The  pleasant  warmth  of  the  fire,  the  soothing 
eflfect  of  the  pipe,  gradually  threw  a  dreamy,  half- 
unconsciousness  over  me,  into  which  I  sunk  with 
willing  delight.  As  my  listless  eyes  rested  upon 
the  glowng  embers,  there  came  a  strain  of  wonder- 
ful music,  like  the  faint  tones  of  some  distant  wind- 
harp.  I  stirred  not,  but  listened,  fearing  to  move 
lest  the  spell  should  be  broken.  Again  came  the 
wave  of  heavenly  harmony,  swelling  to  the  most 
inspiring  grandeur,  and  then  dying  away  into  faint, 
fluctuating  tremors,  fainter  and  fainter,  till  the 
strained  ear  could  just  feel  their  waves.  It  sounded 
in  the  air  above  me,  and  at  that  moment  I  knew 
that  there  was  nothing  real  in  my  experience,  and  I 
listened  breathlessly  for  it  again. 

The  music  continued,  I  think,  over  an  hour,  and 
to  this  day  it  seems  I  can  hear  it  still.  Such  music 
I  have  never  heard  before  or  since.  As  I  sat  alone 
that  dark,  stormy  night,  in  the  wilderness  of  the 
northwest,  hundreds  of  miles  from  civilization,  it 
seemed  there  was  a  chord  within  me  that  responded 


BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER.  jci 

to  the  air  tones  above.  It  appeared  sometimes  to 
sink  until  it  had  enveloped  me  in  its  wild  thrilling 
power,  and  then  it  suddenly  swept  upward,  until  I 
was  pained  with  intense  listening.  At  last,  it  died 
away,  and  with  a  long  sigh  of  relief  I  awoke  to  full 
consciousness. 

I  have  heard  others  narrate  experience  similar 
to  mine  and  I  leave  the  explanation  to  the  curious 
and  investigating,  convinced  that  I  can  offer  none 
that  will  be  satisfactory, 

I  replenished  the  fire,  folded  my  blanket  around 
me,  and  lay  down  to  sleep.  The  night  wind  was 
howling  dismally  through  the  forest,  and  the  dis- 
tant rush  of  the  river  made  melancholy  music.  In 
a  short  time  I  fell  into  a  deep,  and  profound  sleep, 

I  was  aroused  from  this  by  feeling  something 
working  at  my  blanket.  I  lay  motionless  a  moment 
to  ascertain  the  character  of  the  threatened  danger. 
The  next  instant  something  struck  me  like  the  paw 
of  an  animal ;  and,  thinking  a  wolf  had  attacked 
me,  I  sprang  to  my  feet  with  a  shout,  threw  off 
my  blanket,  and  drew  my  knife.  Instead  of  con- 
fronting wolves,  I  met  the  gaze  of  a  half-dozen 
savages !  For  a  moment  I  was  completely  bewil- 
dered. 

"  You  go  'long  with  us,"  said  one,  laying  his 
hand  upon  my  arm. 


1^2  BILL  BIDDON.   TRAPPER. 

I  saw  that  resistance  would  be  useless.  There 
were  half  a  dozen  fully  armed,  and  my  rifle  was 
in  their  hands. 

"  I  am  in  your  power,"  said  I ;  "do  what  you 
please  with  me." 


BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER.  153 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

TRAPPING  AMOXG  THE  INDIANS. 

One  of  the  savages  cast  some  wood  upon  the  fire, 
and  as  it  blazed  up,  I  saw  that  five  of  them  stood 
around  me.  Resistance  would  be  useless,  as  my 
rifle,  knife,  and  revolver  were  in  their  hands. 
Their  faces  were  devoid  of  paint,  and  they  were 
probably  a  party  of  hunters  who  had  fallen  upon  my 
trail.  I  remembered  my  spectral  visitant  a  few 
hours  before,  and  doubted  not  that  he  was  the  means 
of  the  tedious  captivity  which  had  now  only  com- 
menced. 

After  I  had  arisen  to  my  feet,  the  captors  contin- 
ued conversing  in  an  unknown  tongue.  It  per- 
plexed me  to  understand  how  one  of  them  was 
able  to  address  me  in  tolerably  good  English;  but 
I  supposed  he  must  have  had  intercourse  with  the 
fur  traders  and  hunters  and  the  forts  and  stations 
of  the  northwest. 

The  debate  of  the  Indians  I  judged  to  be  a 
decision    upon    the    course    they   were    to    follow. 


je^  BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER. 

Singularly  enough,  I  had  hardly  any  fears  at  all 
in  regard  to  my  life,  feeling  pretty  well  convinced 
that  they  intended  an  endless  captivity  for  me.  I 
doubted  not  I  should  be  adopted  into  their  tribe, 
and  doomed  to  the  office  of  the  meanest  slave. 
This  was  not  a  very  encouraging  prospect  it  is 
true,  but  it  was  infinitely  superior  to  that  of  death. 

After  a  few  minutes'  conversation,  the  Indians 
apparently  came  to  a  satisfactory  conclusion;  for 
they  seated  themselves  around  the  fire,  ordering 
me  to  do  the  same,  and  here  they  sat  as  grim  and 
silent  as  statues,  not  a  muscle  moving,  excepting 
an  occasional  wink  of  the  eyes  at  long  intervals.  I 
watched  them,  it  seemed  for  an  hour,  shivering 
with  cold  all  the  time,  although  my  captors  had  not 
deprived  me  of  my  blanket. 

At  last,  as  I  looked  up,  I  saw  that  day  was 
breaking.  There  was  a  faint  light  in  the  east, 
heralding  the  approach  of  the  sun.  Shortly  after, 
it  burst  above  the  forest  line,  lighting  up  the  inter- 
minable prairie  and  wilderness  with  its  golden  glory. 
The  savages  sprang  to  their  feet,  seized  their 
weapons  and  started  away. 

"  Keep  close,  and  don't  run ! "  said  the  savage 
who  had  addressed  me  at  first. 

"  No  danger  of  my  attempting  it,"  I  answered, 
^flowing  almost  cheerfully  behind  them. 


BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER. 


^55 


And  in  truth  it  would  have  been  the  height  of 
folly  to  make  an  attempt  to  escape.  Each  of  the 
savages  was  a  fleet  runner,  each  possessed  a  loaded 
rifle  (and  one  of  them  had  another,  together  with 
my  revolver,  which,  by  the  way,  was  a  source  of 
great  wonderment  and  perplexity  to  him),  and  the 
utmiost  limit  that  I  possibly  could  have  gained,  as 
will  be  evident  to  the  reader,  was  perhaps  ten  feet. 
So  I  meditated  no  attempt,  but  followed  close  in  the 
footsteps  of  my  captors. 

No  halt  v;as  made  for  breakfast,  and  during 
the  whole  forenoon  we  tramped  through  the  wilder- 
ness in  a  northerly  direction.  As  I  knew  I  was  in 
the  extreme  upper  part  of  the  great  Nebraska 
Territory  when  taken  captive,  I  felt  pretty  certain 
that  I  was  now  in  the  Hudson  Bay  Territory, 
within  the  British  line.  But  here  my  companions 
made  a  turn  to  the  eastward,  and  then,  strangely 
enough,  proceeded  south  again,  so  that  I  was  uncer 
tain  whether  I  was  now  in  the  United  States  or  not. 
The  reason  of  this  detour  on  the  part  of  the  savages 
I  never  knew  and  could  only  conjecture.  I  after- 
ward imagined  it  was  for  the  purpose  of  misleading 
and  bewildering  me  in  case  I  should  ever  attempt 
to  leave  them. 

When  the  sun  was  overhead,  the  Indians  halted 
upon   the   bank  of   a    small   flashing   stream,   and 


ice  BILL  BIDDON,  TRAPPER. 

prepared  their  meal.  A  half-hour  before  halting, 
one  of  the  Indians  had  dodged  off  into  the  forest. 
Some  time  after  I  heard  the  report  of  a  rifle, 
and  in  a  few  minutes  he  returned  with  a  large 
ptarmigan  in  his  hand.  The  feathers  were  plucked 
from  this,  and  the  body  dressed  much  after  the 
fashion  of  civilized  communities.  It  was  then 
partially  cooked  over  the  blaze,  and  despite  the 
change  of  circumstances,  I  made  as  good  and 
substantial  a  meal  upon  it  as  did  any  of  my  com- 
panions. 

The  meal  finished,  the  savages  squatted  before 
the  fire,  drew  forth  their  pipes  and  commenced 
silently  smoking,  their  eyes  glittering  though  the 
vapor  with  suppressed  fierceness,  as  ever  and  anon 
a  sidelong  glance  was  bestowed  upon  me.  One  of 
the  Indians — he  who  spoke  English — was  ex- 
amining my  revolver.  He  closed  one  eye  and 
peered  wonderingly  into  the  six  little  barrels; 
then  he  fingered  about  the  hammer,  took  off  the 
cap,  tasted  it,  and  replaced  it.  (It  may  be  re- 
marked here  that  at  the  time  of  my  experience, 
percussion  caps  were  almost  unknown  in  this 
region.  As  they  were  of  comparatively  recent 
invention,  few  of  the  trappers  consented  to  use 
them  until  a  long  time  after.)  I  was  expecting 
each  moment  to  see  the  weapon  discharge  itself, 


BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER.  157 

as  it  was  fully  charged,  and  was  handled  awk- 
wardly. The  Indian  looked  at  it  in  every  direction, 
at  last  gave  it  up.  He  took  a  smell  of  it,  and 
snuffing  the  gunpowder,  handed  it  to  me. 

"What  is  he?" 

"  A  young  gun,"  I  answered  with  a  smile. 

As  I  took  the  weapon  I  looked  about  me.  There 
were  five  unsuspicious  savages,  and  there  were 
six  messengers  of  death  at  my  command.  For  an 
instant  a  wild  resolve  thrilled  me ;  but  it  was  for  an 
instant  only.  My  soul  revolted  at  the  wholesale 
slaughter  I  should  be  compelled  to  inflict,  and  I 
looked  at  my  interlocutor  with  a  pleasant  smile. 

"Does  he  shoot?"  he  queried,  his  dark  eyes 
lighting  up  with  curiosity. 

"  Of  course.    Would  you  like  to  see  me  fire  it?  " 

"Yaw!  shoot  at  him,"  he  answered,  pointing  at 
the  trunk  of  a  large  tree. 

"What  part  of  it?" 

"  Hit  him  where  you  mind  to." 

"Oh,  let's  have  a  mark,"  I  laughed,  stepping 
forward  and  tearing  off  a  small  piece  of  the  bark, 
so  as  to  offer  a  red  spot  several  inches  in  diameter. 
The  other  savages  were  now  surveying  my  motions 
with  interest,  and  with  some  degree  of  suspicion  the 


1^8  ^^^^  BIDDON,   TRAPPER. 

formidable  looking  little  weapon  in  my  hand.  I 
saw  thert  was  an  opportunity  for  making  a  good 
impression  and  I  resolved  to  do  it.  I  stepped 
back  a  few  paces,  took  a  careful,  though  appar- 
ently a  careless  aim,  and  fired  the  six  barrels  in 
succession  with  tolerable  good  effect. 

"  Just  look  at  the  mark,"  I  remarked,  rather 
stiffly. 

The  Indian  stepped  forward  and  examined  the 
holes,  all  within  an  inch  or  two  of  the  center.  Then 
with  his  knife  he  pried  out  each  bullet,  and  showed 
them  to  his  companions.  They  grunted  their  sat- 
isfaction, or  rather  wonder,  and  turned  the  dimin- 
utive six-shooter  over  and  over  in  their  hands, 
totally  unable  to  comprehend  how  such  a  number 
of  fatal  shots  could  come  almost  simultaneously  from 
it.  I  loaded  and  fired  it  a  number  of  times,  and 
my  friend — he  who  spoke  English — asked  me  to 
make  him  a  present  of  it.  I  assented  with  the 
greatest  pleasure,  as  I  had  no  power  to  refuse,  and 
volunteered  to  instruct  him  in  its  use,  and  all  things 
considered  we  were  getting  on  quite  intimate  terms. 

This  proceeding  of  mine  was  a  stroke  of  policy, 
to  which  I  believe  I  owe  my  life.  My  apparent 
cheerfulness,  my  readiness  to  acquiesce  in  all  their 


BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER.  jcq 

wishes,  convinced  them  that  I  cherished  no  sullen 
vindictiveness  toward  them,  and  I  am  well  satisfied 
that  had  I  asked  my  captors  at  this  time  to  allow 
me  to  proceed  unmolested  upon  my  way,  they  would 
have  done  so.  Yet  I  was  perfectly  willing  to  tarry 
with  them  a  while,  for  reasons  which,  I  trust,  are 
obvious  to  the  reader,  and  I  made  no  request  of 
them. 

We  remained  in  this  spot  for  over  an  hour 
practicing  with  the  revolver.  At  the  end  of  that 
time  its  new  owner  had  made  such  progress  as  to 
be  able  to  strike  a  good-sized  tree  a  yard  distant, 
at  nearly  every  shot. 

"  Him  nice  thing !  "  he  remarked,  shoving  it  care- 
fully down  in  his  belt. 

"  Very  good  in  a  close  hug  with  a  bear  or  foe,'' 
I  replied. 

"  He  is,  by  dam,"  he  added,  pulling  it  forth  and 
again  examining  each  part. 

There  was  but  one  drawback  to  the  savage's 
prospect  of  pleasure.  I  had  but  a  small  quantity 
of  caps,  and  of  course  there  was  no  means  of  obtain- 
ing any  am.ong  his  own  kindred.  He  however 
satisfied  himself  with  the  thought  that  he  could 
obtain  more  at  some  of  the  trading  posts  in  that 
section. 


l60  BILL  BIDDON,  TRAPPER. 

The  line  of  march  was  again  taken  up,  and  con- 
tinued until  nightfall.  They  traveled  in  Indian  file, 
my  dusky  friend  bringing  up  the  rear,  and  myself 
directly  in  front  of  him.  This  plan  was  adopted, 
not  through  any  fear  of  pursuit,  as  they  were  in 
their  own  country,  but  because  caution  and  watch- 
fulness are  habitual  to  the  North  American  Indian. 
Every  now  and  then  the  click  of  the  revolver  was 
audible  behind,  but  I  felt  no  apprehension  as  I 
knew  the  savage  was  only  examining  it  for  his 
own  pleasure. 

Just  before  dusk  we  reached  a  large  and  rapidly 
flowing  stream.  Here  the  rifles  were  slung  about 
their  persons,  and  we  grasped  hands  and  plunged 
unhesitatingly  in.  Had  not  this  expedient  been 
adopted,  I  should  never  have  reached  the  opposite 
side.  We  sank  to  our  shoulders  several  times,  and 
the  boisterous  current  lifted  me  clean  from  the 
bottom,  but  the  strong  arms  of  my  captors  were  all- 
efficient,  and  held  me  firmly  in  my  place  until  the 
opposite  shore  was  reached,  with  no  greater  mis- 
fortune than  the  uncomfortableness  of  our  soaked 
and  clinging  garments. 

The  sun  had  sunk  behind  the  western  mountains, 
and  the  deep  gloom  of  night  was  settling  over  the 


BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER.  i6i 

wilderness,  when  as  we  reached  the  top  of  a  swell, 
I  saw  for  the  first  time  the  Indian  village.  It  lay 
in  a  sort  of  valley,  and  numbered  sixty  or  seventy 
lodges.  As  seen  in  the  dim  twilight  these  looked 
singularly  picturesque  and  fanciful.  I  could  see 
dark  forms  flitting  like  shadows  about  the  lodges, 
and  the  low  hum  of  their  conversation  was  audible. 
We  were  descried,  as  our  forms  stood  out  in  relief 
against  the  sky,  but  no  signals  were  given  by  either 
party. 

As  we  descended  into  the  valley  my  heart  began 
to  fail  me,  at  what  I  feared  my  reception  would  be. 
Stories  of  the  tortures  undergone  by  captives  came 
over  me,  and  I  ventured  my  fears  to  my  friend. 

"  What  your  name  ?  "  he  asked,  halting  and  turn- 
ing toward  me. 

"  Will,"  I  replied. 

"  Will  stay  here,  and  me  come  and  fix  things. 
My  name  Jim,"  said  he,  taking  the  name  probably 
given  him  by  the  w^hites  with  wdiom  he  was 
acquainted. 

The  other  savages  seeing  us  halting  stopped  also, 
and  looked  suspiciously.  Jim  (as  I  shall  here- 
after name  him)  said  something  in  an  unintelligible 
tongue  and  they  passed  on. 


l62  BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER. 

"  Stay  here,  Will,  and  me  fix  things." 

With  this  he  disappeared,  and  I  seated  myself 
upon  the  ground  to  await  his  return.  It  struck  me 
as  rather  curious  for  him  to  give  a  captive  such  a 
good  opportunity  to  escape,  but  it  pleased  me  withal, 
and  it  need  not  be  told  I  made  no  attempt  to  make 
off. 

In  a  few  moments  he  returned,  bearing  in  his 
arms  several  Indian  garments. 

"  Will  put  him  on,  and  me  fix  things,"  said  he, 
throwing  them  down  beside  me.  I  hastily  donned 
them,  understanding  fully  their  use  and  intentions. 

"  Keep  close,  and  don't  say  nothing  to  nobody," 
he  added,  as  they  enveloped  my  person. 

He  now  turned  his  face  towards  the  village,  and 
we  were  soon  wending  our  v.-ay  through  it.  We 
passed  several  savages  who  spoke  to  me,  Jim  how- 
ever taking  the  responsibility  of  replying.  At  last 
we  reached  his  lodge  without  my  identity  being  dis- 
covered. This  was  at  the  extreme  eastern  end  of 
the  village,  and  as  we  entered  I  saw  it  was  devoid 
of  any  persons  except  ourselves. 

'*  You  sleep  there.  Will,"  said  he,  pointing  to  one 
corner,  where  a  buffalo  robe  was  visible  by  the  dim 
light  of  a  few  smoldering  embers.     I  repaired  to 


BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER.  15^ 

the  spot,  thanking-  him  for  his  kindly  offer,  and  lay 
down,  while  he  replenished  the  fire,  seating  himself 
by  it,  and  commenced  the  never-ceasing-  pleasure  of 
examining  his  revolver. 

Lying  half  asleep  on  the  buffalo  robe,  listlessly 
gazing  at  the  savage,  his  features  all  at  once  struck 
me.  I  had  seen  them  before,  but  where  I  could  not 
recollect.  Let  me  see — ah !  it  was  plain  now.  He 
was  one  of  the  occupants  of  the  mysterious  canoe ! 

It  soon  became  known  throughout  the  Indian 
village  that  a  white  man  was  a  captive  among  them, 
and  the  next  morning  the  entrance  to  Jim's  lodge 
v/as  thronged  with  hundreds  anxious  to  get  a  peep 
at  me.  Knowing  that  this  curiosity  must  be  grati- 
fied sooner  or  later,  I  stepped  boldly  forth,  and 
mingled  among  them,  in  order  to  have  the  matter 
finished  at  once.  No  violence  was  offered  me,  al- 
though several  pinched  my  arms  rather  severely, 
seemingly  determined  to  be  satisfied  upon  all  my 
points. 

My  Indian  friend  Jim  was  married,  and,  in  the 
course  of  the  day,  his  squaw  made  her  appearance. 
She  was  a  middle-aged  woman,  and  tolerably  good- 
looking  for  a  savage.     Jim  informed  her  that  I  was 


164  ^IJ^^  BIDDON,   TRAPPER. 

to  be  her  slave,  and  thus  it  may  be  said  I  was 
estabHshed  in  winter-quarters. 

The  heavy  storm  referred  to  in  the  previous 
chapter,  was  the  close  of  the  warm  season,  and 
the  fierce  northern  winter  commenced  setting  in. 
Winter  in  the  northwest  is  far  different  from  that 
season  in  the  Middle  States.  It  is  full  six  months 
in  continuance,  and  such  is  the  intense  coldness  for 
the  greater  part  of  the  season,  that  the  thermometer 
sinks  to  thirty  and  often  forty  degrees  below  zero. 
Two  weeks  after  my  capture,  it  seemed  impossible 
to  prevent  freezing  to  death  in  the  lodge  with  a 
roaring  fire  a  few  feet  off.  Yet  the  savages  minded 
it  hardly  at  all.  A  few  extra  garments  were  added 
to  their  costume,  and  they  flitted  as  incessantly 
through  the  village  as  ever. 

In  the  tribe  it  was  acknowledged  that  I  was  the 
property  of  Jim,  and  thus  my  lot  was  much  more 
endurable  than  otherwise.  He  was  really  a  good- 
hearted  Indian,  I  believe ;  and  the  course  that  I  ever 
maintained  toward  him  won  some  of  his  regard. 
However,  he  was  a  lazy  dog,  like  all  of  his  male 
kindred,  and,  although  I  had  an  exalted  opinion  of 
him,  it  was  impossible  to  discover  in  him  any  of  those 
poetical  attributes  which  are  so  generally  coneedetl 


BILL  BIDDOX,  TRAPPER,  165 

to  the  North  American  Indian.  In  conversation 
with  me,  he  discarded  entirely  those  extravagant, 
highly-wrought  figures  of  speech  common  to  his 
kindred,  and  added  in  their  place  an  awkward  oath 
or  two,  and  a  phrase  learned  from  the  Hudson-Bay 
traders.  The  greater  part  of  the  day  he  sat  before 
his  fire,  smoking  and  gazing  moodily  into  it,  while 
his  better-half  busied  herself  about  the  apartment 
as  willingly  and  contentedly  as  though  she  never 
dreamed  of  a  different  lot.  Of  course,  I  assisted 
her  as  much  as  lay  within  my  power,  and  came  at 
last  to  do  all  of  the  out-door  work. 

I  have  always  regarded  my  capture  by  this  tribe 
of  Indians  as  a  fortunate  circumstance.  I  cannot 
imas-ine  how  else  I  could  have  maintained  life 
through  the  unusually  severe  winter  which  followed. 
No  mortal  hand  could  have  saved  me  from  perishing 
from  cold,  while  it  would  have  been  utterly  im- 
possible to  have  procured  food,  when  the  snow  lay 
six  feet  upon  the  ground,  and  the  rivers  were  sealed 
by  great  depths  of  ice.  Although  frequent  occa- 
sions presented  themselves,  I  determined  to  make 
no  effort  to  leave  my  captors  until  the  spring  had 
arrived. 

As  mentioned,  I  had  pretty  well-defined  suspi- 
cions that  Jim  was  one  of  the  savages  who  occupied 
the  mysterious  canoe,  referred  to  in  the  preceding 


l66  BIJ^^  BIDDON,  TRAPPER. 

chapters.  I  was  not  positive  of  this,  although,  when 
I  stood  by  his  side  and  viewed  his  profile,  the  resem- 
blance seemed  perfect. 

One  great  disappointment  had  already  come.  I 
was  sure  that  I  should  learn  something  either  of 
Nat,  or  of  the  fair,  mysterious  captive.  When  I 
questioned  Jim,  he  answered  with  such  apparent 
sincerity  and  truth,  that  I  was  pretty  well  convinced 
he  knew  nothing  of  either.  In  regard  to  the  latter 
he  laughed ;  the  former  he  merely  shook  his  head ; 
he  knew  nothing  of  either.  Sometimes  when  I  fell 
into  a  deep  reverie,  and  suddenly  awoke,  I  could 
see  Jim  lift  his  eyes  quickly  from  me,  as  though  he 
had  been  endeavoring  to  satisfy  himself  of  my 
identity.  He  questioned  me  artfully,  and  I  told  him 
all.     At  last,  I  resolved  to  put  the  question  direct. 

"  Jim,  didn't  you  and  another  warrior,  some  weeks 
ago,  pass  down  the  river,  some  distance  south,  with 
a  white  woman  ?  " 

There  was  a  perceptible  start  at  this  question, 
but  he  answered  promptly: 

"  Don't  know  nothing  'bout  'em." 

"  Why,  I  was  pretty  sure  that  I  saw  you." 

He  shook  his  head. 

There  was  nothing  to  be  gained  by  further  ques- 
tioning, and  I  gave  it  up.     But  I  was  satisfied  he 


BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER.  167 

knew  more  of  Nat  and  the  sweet  captive  than  he 
was  willing  to  *tell — and  I  was  not  mistaken. 

Shortly  after  this  conversation,  Jim  told  me  that 
he  and  several  of  his  tribe  were  in  the  employ  of  the 
Hudson  Bay  Fur  Company,  and  traded  numerous 
furs  with  them  every  spring-.  I  asked  him  whether 
he  was  not  in  the  territory  of  the  Northwest  Fur 
Company.  He  replied  that  that  made  no  difference ; 
each  trespassed  upon  the  other's  grounds,  and  he 
had  been  engaged  for  both.* 

A  few  weeks  subsequent  to  this,  there  came  a 
storm  which  laid  the  snow  six  feet  deep,  and  Jim 
informed  m^  that,  in  company  with  several  others, 
he  should  proceed  to  set  his  traps  for  the  winter's 
work,  and  he  willingly  consented  that  I  should 
accompany  him.  Preparations  were  accordingly 
made.  Extra  garments  were  donned,  a  couple  of 
traps  taken  by  each,  and,  placing  our  snow-shoes 
upon  our  feet,  we  sallied  forth.  This  was  the  first 
time  I   ever  attempted  to  travel   with   snow-shoes, 


*  The  Hudson  Bay  Company,  established  two  hundred  years 
ago,  by  Prince  Rupert,  divided  its  territory  into  four  compart- 
ments— the  Northern,  including  all  the  country  of  the  Far  North  ; 
the  Southern,  extending  south  to  Lake  Superior;  the  Montreal, 
including  the  country  along  the  northern  shore  of  the  Gulf  of 
St.  Lawrence  ;  and  the  Columbia  Department,  comprehending 
all  the  country  west  of  the  Rocky  Mountains,  including  Oregon, 
in  which,  I  believe,  they  still  trade. 


1 68  BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER. 

and,  as  may  be  supposed,  I  made  awkward  work 
of  it.  These  were  fully  six  feet  in  length,  resem- 
bling a  canoe  somewhat  in  shape,  and  of  extreme 
lightness.  The  interior  is  filled  with  a  gauzy  net- 
work, which  allows  the  light,  sand-like  snow  to  fall 
through  without  impeding  one's  progress.  They 
are  fastened  loosely  but  securely  to  the  feet,  and 
when  the  snow  is  not  dampened  by  thaws,  twenty 
miles  can  be  easily  made  in  a  day.  Without  these 
convenient  things,  it  would  be  next  to  impossible 
to  travel  during  six  months  of  the  year  in  the  fur- 
bearing  regions. 

We  proceeded  westward  some  eight  or  ten 
miles  before  all  of  the  traps  were  set,  when,  turn- 
ing, we  retraced  our  steps,  intending  to  visit  them 
the  following  night.  The  trap  used  by  the  Indians 
of  this  section  is  much  the  same  as  the  com- 
mon steel-trap  of  the  States,  being,  however,  much 
larger,  and  without  the  saw-like  teeth  of  the  lat- 
ter. A  long  chain,  with  a  heavy  stone  attached,  is 
fastened  to  the  trap,  and  concealed  beneath  the 
snow,  to  prevent  the  animal  making  off  with 
the  whole  concern.  The  trap  is  placed  just  beneath 
the  surface  of  the  snow,  and  bits  of  frozen  fish 
are  scattered  around,  which  attract  the  half-starved 
foxes,  lynx,  beavers,  and  wolves  in  the  region. 
Having  completed  all   arrangements,   we  retraced 


BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER.  1 69 

our  Steps,  and  reached  the  village  just  as  night  was 
setting  in. 

Nothing  of  note  took  place  the  next  day,  and,  as 
the  night  came  on,  Jim  informed  me  that  they  were 
going  to  visit  their  traps  to  ascertain  what  luck 
they  had.  As  he  made  no  objection,  I  again  donned 
my  snow-shoes  and  joined  them.  There  was  but 
one  savage  beside  himself.  The  snow  was  crisp 
and  fine,  and  the  traveling  comparatively  easy. 
Jim  dragged  a  small  sled  behind  him  for  the  pur- 
pose of  bringing  back  anything  found  in  the 
traps. 

It  was  a  bright  moonlight  night,  and  as  we 
journeyed  through  the  forest,  there  were  patches 
of  snow  almost  as  light  as  day.  We  shunned  the 
trees,  as  the  snow-crust  was  brittle  around  them, 
and  once  or  twice  crossed  broad  belts  of  snow, 
devoid  of  timber,  which  Jim  informed  me  were 
the  beds  of  rivers.  As  we  traveled  on,  nothing 
broke  the  silence,  except  the  muffled  sliding  of  our 
shoes  over  the  icy  crust,  or  a  single  word  from  one 
of  the  savages;  and  it  occurred  to  me  that  if  my 
friends  at  home  could  have  seen  me  at  this  partic- 
ular moment,  they  would  have  imagined  I  was 
searching  for  gold  in  a  strange  country. 

The  first  trap  we  reached  had  the  fore-leg  of  a 


I^O  BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER. 

fox  in  it  only.  I  looked  at  Jim  inquiringly,  unable 
to  understand  what  it  meant. 

"He  gnawed  him  off,  and  run  away;  look  out 
next  time." 

The  fox  had  been  caught  by  his  fore-leg,  and, 
finding  himself  unable  to  get  loose,  had  eaten  off 
the  imprisoned  limb  and  escaped  on  the  others.  In 
a  month's  time  he  would  probably  suffer  no  incon- 
venience from  it.  In  the  next  trap  was  found  a 
red  fox,  whose  fur  bears  but  a  trifling  value.  He 
was  killed,  placed  upon  the  sled,  the  trap  reset, 
and  we  proceeded  to  the  rest.  None  of  them  had 
been  visited,  except  the  last.  In  this  was  im- 
prisoned a  beautiful  black  fox,  the  capture  of 
which  nearly  set  the  two  savages  into  ecstasies. 
The  fur,  of  this  animal  is  more  valuable  than  that 
of  any  other  caught  by  the  trappers,  one  alone 
sometimes  bringing  as  high  as  two  hundred  dollars. 
It  is  so  rarely  captured,  and  such  a  prize,  when 
taken,  that  a  hunter  would  be  satisfied  with  one 
single  animal  during  the  whole  season. 

Our  two  animals  being  secured  upon  our  sled. 
and  the  traps  carefully  reset,  we  commenced  our 
return  journey.  The  night  was  far  advanced  when 
we  reached  the  Indian  village.  As  we  entered  our 
lodge,  Jim's  squaw  arose  noiselessly  and  replen- 
ished the  fire.     While  removing  my  snow-shoes,  I 


BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER.  171 

remarked  to  Jim  that  my  feet  had  felt  for  the  last 
hour  or  two  as  though  they  were  asleep. 

"Let  me  see  him,"  he  asked  quickly,  jerking  off 
the  thick  moccasins  which  I  had  donned  a  few  weeks 
back.  He  looked  at  my  feet  a  moment,  and  then 
exclaimed,  "  By  dam,  him  froze  up !  '* 

I  was  considerably  startled  at  this,  and  anxiously 
asked  him  if  they  were  badly  frozen. 

"'  Yaw,  but  rne  fix  'em,"  he  answered,  and  com- 
menced immediately  rubbing  until  I  begged  him  to 
desist.  He  paid  no  heed  to  my  entreaties,  but 
continued  this  treatment  until  he  had  restored  com- 
pletely the  congealed  circulation,  and  saved  the 
useful  members. 

The  savages  had  but  poor  fortune  in  trapping 
this  winter,  and  there  was  considerable  suffering. 
The  Indians  of  the  northwest  rely  solely  upon  what 
they  are  able  thus  to  take,  for  their  food  during  the 
cold  season;  and,  as  there  is  generally  plenty  of 
game,  they  fare  well.  But  now  and  then  some  un- 
accountable cause  drives  all  the  animals  away,  and 
cases  of  actual  starvation  have  occurred.  Jim  told 
me  that  three  winters  before  a  case  of  cannibalism 
had  occurred  in  their  tribe,  and  years  before  that, 
w^hen  a  mere  child,  there  came  an  appalling  time. 
Half  the  families  were  obliged  to  devour  some 
of  their  members  to  support  life  until  sprmg,  and, 


J  72  BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER, 

for  over  a  week,  an  old,  miserable  bison  sup- 
ported the  whole  tribe.  Jim  said  he  had  more  than 
once  cooked  his  moccasins  and  eaten  them. 

The  tribe  was  driven  to  no  such  extremity  as 
this  while  I  was  with  them,  and  I  saw  no  want 
myself.  Jim  was  one  of  their  best  hunters  and  he 
supplied  his  own  lodge  before  that  of  others.  Yet, 
there  were  others  who  were  not  so  fortunate,  and 
who  were  often  compelled  to  endure  the  pangs  of 
hunger  for  days  at  a  time.  When  food  was 
secured,  they  gorged  themselves  nearly  to  bursting, 
and  were  the  happiest  of  mortals,  until  the  wants 
of  nature  again  made  themselves  felt. 

I  could  write  far  more  of  my  experience  with 
this  tribe  of  Indians;  but  I  feel  it  would  be  hardly 
in  place  here,  as  there  are  other  characters  in  this 
narrative  who  must  claim  notice.  My  aim  has  been 
only  to  dwell  long  enough  upon  particulars,  for 
an  understanding  of  the  events  that  follow.  Dur- 
ing my  captivity,  several  things  occurred  to  make 
me  suspect  that  the  mysterious  captive  referred  to 
was  in  this  village  the  whole  time,  and  I  was  satis- 
fied that  the  Indian  Jim  knew  more  of  Nat  than  he 
would  impart  to  me.  These  imaginings  filled  me 
with  moody  misgivings,  and  I  made  a  resolve  that 
as  soon  as  spring  came  I  would  make  my  escape; 
and  if  I   could  learn  nothing  of   the  two  beings 


BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER.  173 

whose  fate  was  unknown  to  me,  depart  for  the 
States.  The  life  I  was  leading  was  a  wearisome, 
monotonous  one,  and  in  time  would  become  un- 
bearable. Spring  was  but  a  month  or  two  distant, 
and  in  its  approach  I  placed  my  fondest  hopes ; 
but  it  was  doomicd  to  open  an  experience  in  my  life 
of  which  I  little  dreamed. 


ly^  BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER, 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE    BUFFALO    HUNT    AND    ITS    CONSEQUENCES. 

During  my  captivity  among  the  Indians,  as 
stated  in  the  last  chapter,  there  was  considerable 
suffering  on  account  of  the  scarcity  of  food.  The 
country  to  the  north  of  Nebraska  is  the  paradise  of 
all  species  of  game  in  the  summer  months,  but 
during  the  winter  the  large  animals  proceed  to  the 
southward,  and  the  deep  snows  prevent  the  capture 
of  the  smaller  ones,  except  by  means  of  traps. 
Spring,  therefore,  was  looked  forward  to  with 
eager  expectation,  as  the  harbinger  of  enjoyment 
and  the  season  of  the  chase. 

And  it  came  at  last.  First,  the  sun  grew  hotter 
and  blazed  more  fiercely ;  the  snow  became  damp 
and  cloggy,  and  the  dripping  of  water  could  be  heard 
through  the  day  and  night.  Snow-shoe  traveling 
was  now  nearly  impossible,  as  long  as  the  thaw 
continued.  Huge  streams  of  melted  snow  poured 
into  the  rivers  all  along  the  banks,  and  the  ice 
became  weaker  and  weaker  each  moment,  till,   at 


BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER.  jyc, 

last,  with  a  terrific  crashing  and  thundering,  the 
whole  mass  started,  and,  a  week  after,  the  clear, 
blue  running  water  only  was  seen.  The  thaw  con- 
tinued, until  at  last  all  the  snow  had  disappeared, 
and  with  feelings  of  indescribable  joy,  we  once  more 
saw  the  face  of  the  earth.  Vegetation  now  com- 
menced with  surprising  growth,  and,  in  an  almost 
incredible  short  space  of  time,  bright,  radiant,  glo- 
rious spring  held  indisputed  reign.  Indians  were 
departing  and  arriving  every  day  with  loads  of  fish, 
wild  fowl,  and  game,  and  the  village  was  a  scene 
of  unbridled  feasting  for  many  a  day. 

One  forenoon,  a  savage,  who  had  been  absent  a 
day  or  two,  announced  that  a  herd  of  buffaloes 
were  quietly  browsing  a  few  miles  to  the  south- 
ward. This  produced  violent  commotion  through- 
out the  village,  and  preparations  were  at  once  made 
for  the  grand  hunt.  Some  twenty  or  thirty  splen- 
did Indian  ponies  were  mounted  by  as  many  war- 
riors, and,  to  my  inexpressible  delight,  Jim  in- 
formed me  that  I  should  accompany  them.  A 
small,  high-spirited  animal  was  given  me  as  my 
charger.  He  was  of  a  dark  color,  and  his  dappled 
haunches  glistened  in  the  sun  like  polished  ebony. 

About  noon  we  sallied  forth  from  the  village,  and 
struck  a  southward  direction,  restraining  our  ani- 
mals to  a  walk,  in  order  to  preserve  their  wind  for 


176  BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER. 

the  severe  test  at  hand.  While  riding  along  by  the 
side  of  Jim,  the  thought  of  escape — which  had  not 
been  absent  from  me  for  the  last  six  months — came 
with  double  force,  I  was  now  mounted  upon  a 
fleet,  long-winded  animal,  who  could  hold  his  own 
with  any  horse  bestrode  by  the  Indians,  and  what 
was  to  prevent  my  escape?  In  the  bewilderment 
and  excitement  of  the  chase,  I  might  wander  miles 
away,  and  be  gone  many  hours,  without  exciting 
suspicion.  My  captors,  I  suppose,  had  no  thoughts 
of  my  attempting  a  flight,  as  I  had  permitted  so 
many  opportunities  to  pass,  and  I  felt  there  would 
be  no  suspicious  eyes  watching  my  motions.  The 
prairie  stretched  hundreds  of  miles  to  the  south- 
ward, and  it  seemed  my  animal  longed  to  bound 
away  upon  it.  At  any  rate,  I  felt  the  time  had  come, 
and  resolved  that  I  should  never  return  to  the 
Indian  village  a  captive. 

An  hour  or  so  after,  we  came  in  sight  of  the 
drove,  cropping  the  new  grass  of  the  prairie.  So 
numerous  were  they,  that,  as  we  looked  over  them, 
it  was  impossible  to  see  their  extent.  Far  away, 
until  they  touched  the  horizon,  the  ocean  of  dark, 
swarming  bodies  could  be  seen. 

Our  animals  now  partook  of  the  excitement  of 
their  masters.  Arching  their  necks,  they  scented 
the   prey   afar,   and    it    was   nearly    impossible    to 


**  Setting  up  a  wild  yell,  the  Indians  scattered  and  plunged  after 

them." 


BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER.  lyg 

restrain  their  impatience.  They  snorted,  and 
plunged,  champed  their  bits,  and  shook  their  heads, 
and  seemed  determined  to  rush  forward  despite  all 
restraint. 

We  continued  stealthily  approaching  in  a  body, 
preserving  strict  silence,  in  order  not  to  alarm  the 
game.  In  this  way,  we  came  within  a  hundred 
yards,  when  a  bull  raised  his  alarmed  gaze  at  us, 
and,  giving  a  loud  snort,  heaved  his  huge  body 
round,  and  plunged  madly  into  the  herd.  All 
took  the  alarm,  and  went  thundering  away,  making 
the  earth  tremble  with  their  multitudinous  tread. 

It  was  now  wholly  useless  to  undertake  to  check 
our  animals  longer,  and,  setting  up  a  wild  yell, 
the  Indians  scattered  and  plunged  after  them.  The 
buffalo  is  not  a  runner,  and,  owing  to  the  shortness 
of  his  fore-legs,  appears  to  roll  in  his  gait.  The 
Indians'  horses  soon  bring  their  riders  alongside 
the  bisons,  and  as  soon  as  the  shot  is  given,  they 
shy  off  to  avoid  the  infuriated  animal's  horns.  Be- 
fore I  was  prepared  for  it,  my  animal  was  abreast 
of  a  buffalo,  and  waiting  for  my  shot.  Here  I  com- 
mitted a  blunder  common  to  all  beginners  of  the 
hunt.  I  fired  while  holding  the  reins  in  my  hands. 
The  consequence  "was,  my  bullet  struck  the  animal 
somewhere  about  the  head,  got  entangled  in  his 
mane,  where  it  would  drop  out  in  a  day  or  two. 


igQ  BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER. 

My  horse  immediately  veered  to  one  side,  and 
allowed  the  buffalo  to  run  until  I  could  reload. 
I  now  saw  my  beast  knew  more  of  the  chase  than 
I  did,  and  dropping  the  rein  upon  his  neck,  allowed 
him  full  freedom. 

Cautiously,  but  rapidly,  he  came  alongside  the 
plunging  buffalo,  and  taking  more  care,  I  sent  a 
bullet  through  the  fore  part  of  his  body.  It  was  his 
death-wound ;  and,  seemingly  conscious  of  his  fate, 
and  determined  on  revenge,  he  wheeled  instantly 
round,  drove  his  fore-feet  into  the  ground,  and 
dropped  his  head  to  rip  up  my  charger.  This 
movement  was  so  sudden,  and  we  were  so  close  upon 
him,  that  my  horse  could  neither  check  his  speed 
nor  turn  to  one  side.  But  he  avoided  him  for  all 
that.  Dropping  upon  his  haunches  with  a  snot-t,  he 
made  a  terrific  bound  upward  and  went  clean 
over  the  buffalo.  The  maddened  animal  expected 
this,  and  plunged  his  horns  upward  at  him,  ex- 
pecting to  still  kill  him.  The  instinct  of  the  horse 
was  too  much,  however ;  he,  too,  feared  such  a  fate, 
and  leaped  high  enough  to  avoid  him.  As  he  came 
to  the  earth  again,  he  plunged  swiftly  away,  the 
enraged  buffalo  in  full  pursuit;  but  he  easily  kept 
clear  from  him,  wheeling  and  dodging,  and  still 
remaining  nigh  enough  for  me  to  give  my  shot. 
My  gun  was  unloaded,  and  before  I  could  charge 


BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER.  jgi 

It,  the  buffalo  had  fallen  to  the  earth  and  was  fast 
dying. 

I  now  looked  about  me.  Buffaloes  were  flying 
in  every  direction,  and  the  forms  of  the  savages 
could  be  seen  darting  to  and  fro  among  them,  deal- 
ing death  and  destruction  at  every  turn.  The  main 
herd  was  pouring  simultaneously  southward,  while 
the  scores  which  had  been  cut  off,  were  endeavor- 
ing to  rejoin  them,  carrying  us  along  with  them.  In 
different  parts  of  the  prairie  could  be  seen  the  dark, 
motionless  forms  of  the  slain  buffaloes,  showing 
how  successful  the  chase  had  been  thus  far. 

The  sky,  which  in  the  mornng  was  fair  and 
clear,  w^as  now  becoming  overcast  with  heavy 
clouds,  and  two  or  three  warning  rumbles  of  thun- 
der were  heard  in  the  distance.  Still,  the  savages 
were  too  excited  to  notice  the  interruption,  as  long 
as  a  single  buffalo  remained.  I  saw  Jim  plunge  his 
horse  unhesitatingly  into  a  crowd  of  a  dozen  or  so, 
when,  as  he  commenced  dealing  destruction,  his 
horse  became  entangled,  and  he  was  compelled  to 
make  a  flying  leap  over  the  backs  of  the  animals 
around  him.  This  he  accomplished  successfully, 
leaping  from  one  back  to  the  other,  until  he  was 
clear  of  them  all. 

Suddenly,  it  occurred  to  me,  while  holding  my 
fiery  horse,  that  if  I  meditated  escape  it  was  high 


1 82  ^11^^  BIDDON,   TRAPPER. 

time  to  be  about  it.  Turning  to  the  southward,  1 
could  just  descry  the  drove  thundering  awav.  a 
vast  cloud  of  dust  circling  above  them.  The  /c-r« 
was  dropped  upon  the  neck  of  my  horse,  and, 
stretching  out  his  head,  he  bounded  away  like  the 
wind.  He  was  a  noble  animal,  and  was  now  in  his 
element.  He  enjoyed  the  chase  as  much  as  any  of 
the  savages ;  and,  as  mile  after  mile  of  prairie  flew 
beneath  his  feet,  he  was  only  warming  into  the  ex- 
citement. As  I  looked  back,  I  could  just  discern 
the  Indians,  like  specks  in  the  distance,  still  at  their 
bloody  work. 

We  were  now  at  no  great  distance  from  the  herd, 
and  my  horse  catching  sight  of  an  old  worried  bull, 
somewhat  in  the  rear,  instantly  made  toward  him. 
He  was  too  jaded  to  hasten  his  pace,  and  I  could 
see  his  fury  was  roused.  I  prepared  to  shoot  him, 
as  it  would  go  to  show  my  pursuers,  if  I  should 
have  any,  that  the  excitement  of  the  chase  had 
alone  carried  me  away.  While  yet  some  distance, 
he  shied  to  one  side,  and  turned  his  head  warn- 
ingly  toward  us,  but  without  halting.  The  horse, 
however,  finding  that  I  still  restrained  my  shot, 
continued  to  bring  m^e  closer.  At  last,  the  bison 
struck  into  a  swifter  run,  and  made  desperate 
efforts  to  rejoin  his  companions.  In  an  instant  I 
was  beside  him,  and  holding  my  gun  to  my  shoul- 


BILL  BIDDON,  TRAPPER.  183 

der,  was  just  on  the  point  of  firing,  when  he  sud- 
denly stood  at  bay,  in  precisely  the  same  manner 
as  the  other.  My  horse,  instead  of  making  a 
running  leap  this  time,  stopped  instantaneously, 
planting  his  feet  firmly  in  the  ground.  I  was  not 
prepared  for  this,  and  shot  a  dozen  feet  over  his 
head,  falling  upon  my  face  within  a  foot  of  the  buf- 
falo. The  shock  was  terrible,  and  I  was  severely 
injured.  I  endeavored  to  rise,  fearing  that  I  should 
be  gored  and  trampled  to  death,  but  was  unable, 
and  heard  the  bufifalo  scampering  away.  I  placed 
my  hand  to  my  face,  and  found  it  covered  with 
blood,  and  a  strange  bewilderment  was  coming  over 
me.  I  arose  to  my  knees,  and  gazed  about  me. 
The  buffalo  was  plunging  in  the  rear  of  his  drove, 
while  my  horse  was  galloping  wildly  around  me,  his 
mane  and  bridle  flying  in  the  wind.  I  heard  the 
bursting  of  thunder  overhead,  and  everything  was 
growing  dark  and  confused.  I  tried  again  to  rise, 
but  failed.  There  was  a  thick  darkness  about  me, 
a  heavy  hand  pressing  me  to  the  earth,  and  all 
become  chaotic. 

When  consciousness  returned,  all  was  blank 
darkness.  The  rain  was  pouring  down  in  torrents, 
and,   stunned  and  bleeding,   I   lay   on  the   soaked. 


184  BILL  BIDDON,  TRAPPER. 

cold,  spongy  earth.  Gradually,  the  remembrance 
of  my  misfortune  came  over  me.  I  must  have 
been  lying  several  hours  upon  the  prairie,  exposed 
to  the  cold,  dismal  storm.  My  clothes  were  satu- 
rated with  the  chilling  rain,  and  my  face  and  hands 
bedabbled  with  mud  and  dirt. 

I  struggled  desperately  to  my  feet,  and  endeav- 
ored to  pierce  the  Stygian  gloom  around ;  but  it  " 
was  useless;  not  the  smallest  point  of  the  faintest 
light  could  be  seen  in  any  direction.  Up,  down, 
on  every  hand,  the  same  solid  walls  of  darkness 
enveloped  me.  I  was  many  miles  from  the  Indian 
village,  and  had  lost  its  direction.  At  that  moment, 
I  would  have  given  worlds  to  have  been  within 
Jim's  lodge.  Flight,  in  my  present  condition,  was 
not  to  be  thought  of,  and  I  must  soon  receive  succor 
or  I  should  perish. 

I  listened.  In  the  dismal  sweep  of  the  rain 
something  like  a  footstep  was  heard.  I  called  out, 
but  there  was  no  reply.  Again  the  splash  of  a  foot 
was  heard,  now  from  a  different  point.  Soon  I  dis- 
covered some  animal  was  walking  around  me  in  a 
circle.  Feeling  round  in  the  spongy  prairie,  I 
found  my  rifle,  but  it  was  useless  as  a  means  of 
defense,  as  the  charge  was  thoroughly  wetted.     I 


BILL  BIDDON,  TRAPPER.  jge 

clubbed  it,  and  waited  for  the  attack.  Still  around 
and  around  the  same  step  went.  At  first  I  fondly 
hoped  it  might  be  Jim,  or  one  of  his  companions,  but 
its  footfall  showed  it  to  be  a  quadruped,  and  its 
approach  was  too  cautious.  Suddenly  it  halted  and 
walked  directly  toward  me.  I  drew  my  rifle  back, 
ready  to  brain  it  the  minute  it  was  within  my  reach. 
A  faint  neigh  was  heard — joy  inexpressible!  it  was 
my  faithful  horse.  As  I  called  to  him,  he  ap- 
proached, and  lowered  his  head  for  me  to  take  his 
bridle.  With  a  feeling  of  deep  thankfulness  and 
hope,  I  clambered  into  the  saddle,  and  he  bounded 
away,  his  unerring  instinct  leading  him  straight 
toward  home: 

The  rain  continued  to  beat,  cold  and  dismal,  and 
I  felt  already  burning  within  me  a  hot,  fiery  fever, 
from  the  terrible  suffering  I  had  undergone.  I 
should  soon  be  prostrated,  and  without  some  kindly 
hand  to  nurse  me,  would  inevitably  perish.  But 
the  horse  was  certain ;  and,  after  an  hour  or  two, 
my  heart  leaped,  as  we  entered  the  silent  Indian 
village.  But  one  light  was  burning,  and  that  was  in 
the  lodge  of  Jim,  showing  that  he  expected  my 
return.  I  rode  instantly  up  to  the  entrance  and 
dismounted,  while  my  noble  horse  made  off  to  look 


l86  BILL  BIDDON,  TRAPPER. 

out  for  himself.  Jim  arose  as  he  heard  my 
approach,  and,  Hfting  his  torch,  advanced  to  meet 
me. 

"  You  had  long  hunt—" 

He  started  back  in  horror  at  my  appearance. 
Then,  holding  his  light  over  his  head,  and  peering 
at  me,  he  asked : 

"What  de  matter?     Been   in  fight?" 

"  No ;  I  v/as  thrown  from  my  horse,  and  lay 
senseless  upon  the  prairie  until  a  short  time  ago. 
I  feel  bad,  Jim,  and  fear  I  am  severely  injured," 
said  I,  starting  to  seat  myself. 

*'  Wait  minute ;  am  hurt ;  let  me  fix  'em." 

He  clapped  his  hands,  and  instantly  the  bundle  of 
blankets  at  the  side  of  the  lodge  arose  to  an  upright 
position,  and  his  squaw  walked  forth.  My  wounds 
were  now  dressed,  my  garments  changed  for  dry 
ones,  and  with  a  hot  cup  of  drink,  I  was  swathed  in 
blankets,  and  placed  by  the  fire.  Jim  said  it  was 
not  far  from  morning,  and  if  at  that  time  I  was 
worse,  he  would  call  in  the  Medicine  Man. 

All  night  the  fever  burned  and  raged,  and  when 
morning  came  I  was  partially  delirious.  Jim  ex- 
amined my  pulse,  shook  his  head  doubtingly,  and 
departed  from  the  lodge.  In  a  short  time  he  re- 
turned, and  with  him  came  the  Medicine  Man,  an 
Indian  considerably  advanced  in  years,  and  much 


BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER.  187 

loved  and  honored  by  his  tribe.  He,  too,  looked 
grave,  and  neld  a  consultation  in  an  undertone  with 
Jim.  From  these  signs,  I  knew  I  was  dangerously, 
probably  fatally  injured. 

And  now  came  days  of  those  strange,  indescrib- 
able visions  that  come  over  one  in  high  fever.  I 
was  in  all  imaginable  places,  and  saw  wonderful 
persons  and  scenes.  Now  and  then,  there  were  mo- 
ments w^hen  reason  flitted  to  its  throne.  At  sucli 
times  I  saw  the  Medicine  Man  or  Jim  near  me ;  and 
once,  as  I  wonderingly  opened  my  eyes,  I  saw  the 
mysterious  captive  bending  over  me.  I  looked 
straight  into  her  dark,  liquid  eyes,  and  reached  forth 
and  touched  her  garment,  to  satisfy  myself  that  it 
was  no  freak  of  mind.  My  fixed  stare  alarmed  her, 
and  she  looked  inquiringly  at  the  ^^ledicine  Man. 
He  mumbled  something,  and  she  departed. 

About  a  week  after  my  accident,  as  I  subsequently 
learned,  I  awoke  with  my  full  reason.  As  I  looked 
wonderingly  about  me,  the  first  object  that  encoun- 
tered my  eyes  was  the  captive  to  whom  I  have 
alluded.  ^ly  fixed  stare  at  her  seemed  to  alarm 
her,  and  she  arose  to  pass  out. 

"  Wait,"  said  I ;  "  pray  do  not  leave  me." 

"  But  you  should  not  talk,"  she  replied,  much 
agitated ;  "  the  Medicine  Man  would  not  allov.^  it ; 
you  will  surely  injure  yourself." 


l88  ^1^^  BIDDON,   TRAPPER. 

"You  and  the  Medicine  Man  are  both  mistaken, 
if  he  thinks  thus.  I  know  I  have  been  sick  and 
delirious,  but  my  mind  was  never  clearer  than  it  is 
this  instant,  and  I  know  a  few  moments'  conversation 
cannot  injure  me.  Let  me  beg  you  not  to  refuse 
me  this,  as  I  cannot  tell  whether  the  opportunity  will 
ever  again  be  offered." 

The  being  before  me  was  much  embarrassed,  and 
for  a  moment  hesitated,  seemingly  in  doubt  between 
duty  and  inclination.  Seizing  the  opportunity,  I 
urged  my  wish  with  greater  fervor  than  ever. 
Finally  she  glanced  furtively  around,  as  though  she 
expected  to  meet  the  twinkling  orbs  of  the  Medicine 
Man,  and  then  answered: 

"  I  cannot  refuse  your  request,  and  yet  it  seems 
wrong  that  I  should  thus  disobey  the  injunctions 
that  were  given  for  your  good.  What  is  it  that 
you  wish  to  ask  me?  " 

"  Am  I  out  of  danger  ?  " 

"  Not  yet.  You  have  been  crazy  for  a  long  time, 
and  more  than  once  the  Medicine  Man  has  shaken 
his  head  in  doubt  when  he  looked  upon  you." 

"  Have  you  not  watched  by  me  nearly  all  the  time 
I  have  been  thus  '^ "  I  gazed  full  in  her  face  as  I 
uttered  this  question,  and  she  dropped  her  eyes  in 
confusion,  as  she  replied : 

"  I  have  assisted  the  Medicine  Man  several  times 


BILL  BIDDOX,   TRAPPER.  189 

as  he  wished  me  to,  an<^  I  have  done  no  more  to  you 
than  I  would  to  any  one  in  similar  circumstances," 

"  No,  sweet  being,  I  know  you  haven't,"  I  ex- 
claimed, in  admiration ;  "  your  heart  is  open  to  any 
one.  Who  you  are  I  know  not,  but  I  can  see  your 
race  is  similar  to  my  own,  and  judge  you  to  be  a 
willing  prisoner  among  these  Indians.  Your  image 
has  long  been  before  me,  and  I  can  never  forget 
your  fair,  angelic  face.  What  first  was  merely 
interest  upon  my  part,  has  grown  into  a  stronger 
passion  for  you,  though  I  fear — " 

I  paused  as  she  suddenly  arose  to  her  feet,  and 
raised  her  hand  in  a  warning  manner.  Before  1 
could  ask  the  meaning  of  this,  a  shuffling  step  was 
heard,  and  the  next  minute  the  -Medicine  ^lan 
made  his  appearance.  He  gesticulated  angrily  to- 
ward her,  and  she  passed  quietly  out  of  the  lodge.  I 
followed  her  with  my  eyes,  and  as  she  reached  the 
passage  way,  she  turned  toward  me  with  a  look  that 
told  more  than  words. 

The  Medicine  Man  evidently  suspected  what  I  had 
been  doing;  for  I  could  see  he  was  excited,  and 
mumbled  continually  to  himself.  He  forced  a  bitter, 
scalding  drink  into  my  mouth,  which  was  soothing 
in  its  efifects,  and  in  a  short  time  I  slept. 

Now  comes  a  long  blank  in  my  memory.  After 
this   incident,  black   night   shut  around   my   mind. 


I^  BILL  BIDDON,  TRAPPER. 

There  is  a  faint  recollection  of  again  seeing  Jim  and 
the  Medicine  Man  bending  over  me,  and  the  sweet 
pale  face  of  the  fair  captive,  and  then  again  eame 
utter  oblivion. 


SILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER,  jgf 


CHAPTER  X. 

AN   AWFUL  AWAKENING. 

I  HAVE  now  reached  a  point  in  my  life  over  which 
I  would  fain  pass  in  silence.  It  is  an  experience 
so  strange,  so  like  some  horrid  vision  of  sleep,  so 
different  from  what  usually  falls  to  the  lot  of 
man,  that,  at  this  remote  day,  I  cannot  look  upon  it 
without  a  recoiling  shudder  of  horror.  I  have 
sometimes  persuaded  myself  that  it  was  unreal ; 
but  no,  it  is  true,  and  time  can  never  clothe  the 
memory  of  it  in  a  different  dress  than  that  of  un- 
earthly terror.  Bleak  and  bare  it  stands  alone,  in 
my  checkered  lot,  and  the  silver  that  now  glistens 
prematurely  in  my  hair,  came  upon  that  night. 

I  remember  falling  into  a  deep  sleep,  in  which 
the  last  form  that  passed  before  my  eyes  was  that  of 
the  dark  Medicine  Man ;  there  was  a  confused  mur- 
mur of  voices,  and  then  all  became  blank  and  dark. 
Gradually  the  darkness  was  swept  by  the  glittering 
folds  of  a  dream — a  dream  which  had  little  form 
©r  theme,  but  the  minutest  particulars  of  which 


IQ2  BILL  BIDDON,  TRAPPER. 

I  remember  to  this  day.  There  were  airy,  waving 
figures  gliding  silently  about  me  without  voice, 
but  with  every  variety  of  motion.  They  passed  and 
repassed  before  my  face,  frequently  pausing  and 
extending  their  arms  over  my  body,  and  sometimes 
standing  and  intently  scanning  my  countenance. 
This  continued  a  long  time,  not  a  word  spoken  either 
by  myself  or  the  forms,  when  suddenly  the  whole 
changed.  The  waving  figures  darted  with  the 
rapidity  of  lightning  among  each  other,  and  the 
quiet  radiance  became  instantly  as  black  as  night. 
In  this,  I  could  distinguish  the  rushing  forms  grow- 
ing fainter  and  fainter,  until,  at  last,  all  was  black- 
ness again. 

Then  came  a  feeling  as  though  the  thick  dark- 
ness in  one  volume  were  gradually  crushing  me 
beneath  it,  and  then  a  strange  feeling  of  being 
cramped  and  held  forcibly  still.  Then  came  a  long, 
deep,  indrawn  breath,  and  I  awoke. 

All  was  confused  and  inexplicable.  Open  my 
eyes  as  wide  as  I  might,  I  could  not  pierce  the 
Stygian  gloom.  I  tried  to  move,  but  could  not — 
could  not  stir  a  limb,  and  only  the  fingers  of  my 
hand.  The  air  was  steamy  and  hot,  and  I  was 
surrounded  by  something  which  chained  every  part. 
I  strove  to  collect  my  thoughts.  I  remembered  the 
consultation  in  the  hut,  the  coming  unconsciousness, 


BILL  BIDDON,  TRAPPER.  jg^ 

and — my  present  awakening.  My  first  impression, 
after  this,  was  that  the  house  had  fallen  over  me. 
I  clenched  my  hands — they  closed  upon  earth!  I 
reached  forward  and  licked  the  darkness.  /  tasted 
earth! — and  then  came  the  sudden,  overwhelming 
knowledge — 

I  WAS  BURIED  ALIVE  !  ! 

No  pen  can  draw  the  faintest  picture,  no  soul 
conceive  the  unutterable  horror,  unless  that  soul 
has  gone  through  the  same  awful  experience  that 
filled  my  soul  at  that  discovery.  Such  a  whirlwind 
of  fire  as  seethed  through  my  bursting  brain,  such 
a  perfect  blaze  of  all  the  passions  that  can  rack 
the  human  mind,  I  cannot  portray  with  this  feeble 
pen.  For  a  moment  I  was  frantic,  and  then  sud- 
denly a  dreadful  and  frightful  calmness  soothed 
my  frame. 

Ay,  I  was  buried  alive!  The  savages  had  mis- 
taken my  trance-like  stupor  for  death  itself,  and  I 
had  been  hurried  prematurely  into  the  grave. 

Oh,  the  appalling  discovery !  To  die  while  in  the 
grave!  The  thought  was  too  horrible!  I  was  not 
yet  ready  to  give  way  to  utter  despair.  I  durst  not 
pause  a  second  for  thought,  for  I  knew  it  would 
surely  come.  I  twisted  and  struggled  with  the 
strength  of  fury.  I  could  turn  my  body  around, 
and  use  my  arms.    There  was  an  open  space  before 


194 


BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER, 


my  face,  as  I  had  been  buried  in  the  sitting  position. 
Had  I  lain  back  I  could  not  have  survived  five 
minutes;  as  it  was,  my  limbs  were  immovably 
secured,  and  it  zvas  absolutely  impossible  for  me  to 
free  myself. 

It  was  a  long  time,  for  such  an  experience,  before 
I  admitted  this,  but  I  was  compelled  to  at  last. 
Death  by  suffocation  was  rapidly  approaching,  and 
all  that  was  left  for  me  was  to  prepare  for  it.  The 
small  breath  of  air  around  me  had  already  been 
breathed  over  and  over  again,  and  was  become 
hot,  steamy,  and  sickening.  I  was  gasping  and 
panting,  but  strove  to  collect  my  thoughts  and  keep 
them  from  wandering.     I  commenced  praying. 

Suddenly  a  muffled  sound  reached  my  ear,  as 
though  something  had  fallen  to  the  earth  above. 
I  listened — it  was  repeated  directly  over  me,  now 
rapidly  and  regularly.  What  could  it  mean?  Was 
it  the  sign  of  dissolution,  or  was  it  real  ?  I  listened, 
and  heard  it  plainer  and  plainer  above  the  mild 
throbs  of  my  heart.  It  was  real!  Something  or 
somebody  was  digging  at  the  grave  above! 

Could  I  now  hold  out  till  I  was  reached?  The 
air  had  already  become  thick  and  palpable,  and 
strange  fires  were  flitting  before  my  eyes.  I  held 
my  breath  till  the  distended  blood-vessels  seemed 
bursting,  and  then  as  I  respired,  the  earth  turned 


BILL  BIDDON,  TRAPPER.  195 

to  soft  mud  around  me;  and  then  the  long-labored 
inspiration  was  like  drawing  in  some  loathsome 
reptile. 

But  what  was  abovj?  It  could  not  be  a  person, 
as  I  had  been  buried  by  them.  It  must  be  some 
famished  animal  hastening  to  devour  me.  Yet  this 
would  be  a  relief,  to  gain  one  more  draught  of  the 
sweet,  cool  air  of  heaven  before  death. 

Now  I  heard  the  murmur  of  voices!  I  shouted 
- — there  was  a  pause  and  stillness ;  then  the  efforts 
were  renewed  with  greater  vigor.  I  shouted  again. 
I  could  feel  the  jarring  tremble  of  the  loose  earth 
above.  Some  one  was  endeavoring  to  rescue  me 
from  my  awful  fate,  thank  God! 

A  moment  after,  and  the  cool  air  brushed  my 
face;  a  strong  hand  seized  my  arm,  and — Oh,  joy 
inexpressible!  I  was  on  the  earth  again. 

For  a  moment  I  was  bewildered  and  dizzy,  and 
my  pulse  fluttered  wildly,  for  I  had  been  very,  very 
nigh  death.  I  was  recalled  to  full  consciousness 
by  the  familiar  voice  of  Jim. 

"  Got  in  a  tight  fix.  Bill.     Ole  Jim  jus'  in  time.'* 

I  took  the  savage's  hand  without  a  word,  and, 
sinking  upon  my  knees,  sent  up  a  deep,  heartfelt 
prayer  to  the  Merciful  Being  who  had  thus  snatched 
me  from  the  most  appalling  death.     There  was  a 


196  BILL  BIDDON,  TRAPPER. 

bright  moon  shining,  and,  as  I  turned,  I  saw  the 
dark  Indian's  eyes  fixed  wonderingly  upon  me. 

*'  Jim,"  said  I,  solemnly,  "  may  the  God  who  has 
put  it  into  your  heart,  reward  you  for  this  act.  I 
never,  never  can.'* 

"  Jim  didn't  do  it,"  he  quickly  interrupted.  "  She 
did ! "  and,  disengaging  his  grasp,  he  darted  out  of 
sight  I  turned  and  looked  behind  me.  There, 
-standing  motionless  as  a  statue,  her  slight  form 
wrapped  in  a  thick  mantle,  her  sweet,  white  face 
appearing  like  a  spirit's,  stood  the  fair,  mysterious 
captive.* 

For  a  moment,  I  was  disposed  to  believe  it  was 
a  spirit  before  me,  so  still  and  motionless  she  re- 
mained.    Suddenly  she  turned  to  depart. 

"  Hold !  "  exclaimed  I,  springing  forward  and 
seizing  her  arm ;  "  hold  one  moment,  till  I  thank 
thee." 

"  Thank  the  Great  One  above,"  she  replied,  in  a 
low,  sweet  voice.  "  He  it  is  who  has  preserved 
your  life." 

As  she  uttered  these  words,  she  turned  her  dark 

*  In  the  northwestern  part  of  Oregon  is  a  tribe  of  Indians 
called  Chenooks,  who  bury  their  sick,  as  soon  as  the  Medicine 
Man  pronounces  them  beyond  recovery.  This  horrid  practice 
is  not  confined  to  them  alone,  for  other  tribes  in  the  northwest 
have  been  known  to  inflict  it  upon  their  captives. 


BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER.  197 

eyes  upward,  and  the  moonlight  streaming  down 
upon  her  face,  threw  a  vail  like  the  halo  of  glory 
around  it.  Then  looking  me  calmly  in  the  face,  she 
added : 

"  You  have  escaped  an  awful  death,  it  is  true ; 
aid  you  are  not  the  only  one  who  has  thus  risen 
from  the  grave.  When  delirious,  you  spoke  of 
home  and  of  friends  there,  and  I  know  your  presence 
is  prayed  for.  The  chance  of  reaching  them  is  now 
placed  within  your  reach.  A  horse  is  saddled  and 
bridled,  and  awaiting  you,  but  a  short  distance 
away.  Jim  will  furnish  you  with  a  rifle.  You 
know  the  direction  to  take,  and  let  me  urge  you 
to  flee." 

Again  she  turned  to  go,  but  I  restrained  her. 

"  You  are  a  white  person,  and  do  you  wish  to  live 
and  die  with  these  savages  ?  " 

The  tears  glistened  on  her  face  as  she  replied, 
"  I  have  not  a  friend  in  the  civilized  world.  My 
parents  were  murdered  by  the  Indians,  and  my- 
self and  sister  carried  away  in  captivity.  We  were 
separated ;  I  was  taken  eastward,  and  she  westward 
beyond  the  Rocky  Mountains.  She  cannot  be  liv- 
ing, for  she  was  a  delicate  child,  younger  than  me, 
and  incapable  of  bearing  one-half  the  suffering 
that  must  have  been  imposed  upon  her.  Should 
I  ever  see  the  land  I  left  when  a  child,  I  should 


IQg  BILL  BIDDON,  TRAPPER. 

be  a  stranger  among  strangers.  There  are  those 
here  who  love  me,  and  I  will  remain  behind  and 
die  among  them." 

"  Flee  with  me,"  I  impetuously  urged.  "  You 
will  not  be  a  stranger.  Hundreds  will  love  you, 
and  you  can  die  with  your  own  kindred.  Jim,  who 
is  faithful  to  you,  will  furnish  us  both  with  a  fleet 
horse,  and  we  can  elude  all  pursuit.    I — " 

I  paused,  for  her  agitation  had  become  painful. 
She  was  sinking  to  the  earth,  when  I  caught  her, 
and,  leading  her  a  short  distance,  seated  myself 
beside  her  upon  a  fallen  tree.  Then  I  gently 
pulled  her  head  over  on  my  bosom,  and  looked 
down  mpon  her  features.  Her  gaudy  head-dress 
was  removed,  and  her  white  face  lay  among  the 
mass  of  jetty  hair  like  a  jewel  set  in  darkness.  The 
dark,  sweeping  lashes,  the  faint  roseate  glow  of 
each  cheek,  the  delicate  nose  and  lips,  as  the  moon- 
light rested  on  them,  were  indescribably  beautiful. 
There  was,  too,  an  utter  abandonment  about  her, — 
a  tumultuous  throbbing,  that  showed  what  a  power- 
ful emotion  was  agitating  her. 

What  was  that  emotion?  Was  it  a  response  to 
my  own  great  passion?  What  else  could  it  be? 
Encouraged  by  the  certainty  that  the  latter  was 


BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER.  jog 

the  case,  I  urged  my  suit  with  redoubled  ardor. 
I  pictured  the  happiness  that  would  be  hers  in  a 
civilized  country,  and  the  utter  misery  that  must 
follow  her  life  among  the  savages.  She  informed 
me  that  she  was  a  captive,  not  of  the  tribe  near  at 
hand,  but  of  one  further  north,  which  had  held  her 
ever  since  the  massacre  of  her  parents ;  and  that  she 
had  been  told,  in  case  she  attempted  to  leave  them, 
instant  death  would  be  the  result.  I  saw  she  wished 
— she  longed  to  flee,  and  the  objections  she  offered 
were  only  suggested  by  her  fears. 

"  Hist !  "  she  whispered,  "  there  is  some  one." 

I  turned  on  the  defensive.  In  an  instant  Jim 
stood  beside  me. 

"  How  soon  goin'  ?  "  he  asked,  anxiously,  turning 
toward  me. 

"  Shortly ;  why  do  you  ask  ?  " 

"  Day  clus  comin',  and  if  you  cotched,  no  use ! ' ' 
he  replied,  meaningly. 

"  I  was  not  aware,  Jim,  that  I  had  enemies  among 
you." 

"You  hain't;  but—" 

The  rest  of  the  sentence  was  gesticulated,  first 
pointing  to  me  and  the  fair  one  beside  me. 

"  Do  you   not   understand  ? "    asked   the    latter. 


200  BILL  BIDDON,  TRAPPER. 

*'  There  are  several  in  the  tribe  who  look  upon  me 
with  envious  eyes,  and  were  they  conscious  that  you 
knew  of  my  existence,  you  would  not  be  spared  a 
moment.  This  is  what  Jim  means,  and  his  words 
must  be  heeded." 

"  Must  I  travel  afoot  and  alone  ? "  I  asked  of 
the  Indian. 

"  There^s  the  boss  what  tossed  you  over  the 
buffler  there,"  he  answered,  pointing  to  a  clump  of 
trees,  "  and  I've  brought  you  them  other  things," 
he  added,  handing  me  my  knife,  powder-horn,  and 
rifle,  "  and  I'll  show  you  through  the  woods  to  the 
peararie." 

"  Thank  you ;  but  I  shall  not  need  you,  as  I  know 
the  way  well  enough." 

"  How  soon  you  goin'  to  start?"  he  asked,  turn- 
ing to  depart. 

"  In  less  than  an  hour  I  shall  bid  you  farewell." 

"Jim,"  interposed  the  fair  captive,  "bring  my 
horse  to  the  same  spot.  I  think  I  shall  also  leave 
for  home  to-night.  If  inquiry  is  made,  you  can 
tell  them  this,  and  add  that  I  shall  probably  be  with 
them  in  a  few  days  again.  As  I  know  the  wilder- 
ness well,  I  will  guide  our  friend  here  through  it." 

The  savage  looked  cautiously  at  us  both.    If  he 


BILL  BIDDON,  TRAPPER.  20 1 

was  shrewd  enough  to  suspect  the  truth,  he  was 
polite  enough  not  to  show  it.  He  replied  that  her 
wish  should  be  gratified,  and  he  disappeared  as 
noiselessly  as  he  came.  It  was  now  getting  far 
in  the  night.  The  moon  rode  high  in  the  heavens, 
and  shed  a  full,  perfect  light  down  upon  us. 

"  So  you  are  going,"  said  I,  looking  at  her. 

"  I  am  going  to  attempt  it,"  she  answered,  firmly. 

"And  through  no  action  of  mine  shall  you  ever 
regret  this  step,"  I  added,  warmly. 

"  Oh !  I  hope  he  will  soon  return,  for  I  icish 
to  go,"  she  said,  as  with  a  shiver  of  apprehension 
she  looked  hurriedly  about  in  the  dark  shadows 
of  the  forest. 

"  x\s  yet,  we  know  not  each  other's  names,"  said 
I,  pleasantly. 

"True,"  she  answered,  with  a  faint  smile. 
"  inline  is  Imogene  Merment." 

"  And  mine  is  William  Relmond ;  but  where  can 
Jim  be?" 

"  Ah !  there  he  is  now,"  she  answered,  with  a 
deep  flush;  and  the  next  minute  the  savage  stood 
beside  us. 

"  The  animals  are  there ;  and  I'm  thinking  youM 
better  be  off.     Soon  as  you  git  away,  I'll  cover  up 


202  ^^^^  BIDDON,   TRAPPER. 

the  hole,  so  thee  won't  think  him  has  crawled  out; 
but  Fm  much  af eared  there  am  some  peeking  about 
here." 

"  We  will  go  at  once,"  said  Imogene,  gathering 
up  her  dress. 

I  turned  to  give  a  last  word  to  Jim,  but  he  had . 
vanished. 

"  Let  us  hurry,"  said  she,  "  for  I  have  a  dread 
that  we  are  watched,  and  will  not  get  away  after 
all.  I  pray  God  that  nothing  may  prevent  us,  now 
that  we  are  started." 

She  almost  ran,  and  in  a  minute  we  reached  the 
grove  referred  to.  Here  we  found  two  horses 
saddled  and  bridled,  and  ready  for  a  journey. 
Without  losing  a  moment,  we  mounted  and  struck 
to  the  northward. 

"  Why  this  direction,  Imogene  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  To  avoid  pursuit,"  she  answered.  "  At  day- 
light we  will  change  it,  and  proceed  to  the  south- 
east." 

The  open  prairie  was  some  miles  distant,  and 
as  long  as  we  were  in  the  deep  shadows  of  the 
wood,  the  greatest  danger  was  to  be  apprehended. 
It  was  more  than  probable  that  the  extended  ab- 
sence of  Jim.  and  Imogene,  at  the  same  time,  had 


"  Without  losing  a  moment,  we  mounted  and  struck  to  the 
northward." 


BILL  BIDDON,  TRAPPER.  205 

aroused  the  suspicions  of  more  than  one  savage.  As 
an  must  have  known  that  I  was  buried  while  still 
living,  and  that  she  had  battled  their  determination 
as  long  as  there  was  hope,  when  the  morning  came 
and  showed  her  abrupt  departure,  they  could  not 
help  suspecting  the  true  cause. 

The  air  was  cool  and  exhilarating,  and,  as  my 
fiery  animal  pranced  beside  that  of  Imogene,  I 
could  not  restrain  the  wild,  ardent  hopes  that 
thrilled  my  being.  I  was  homeward  bound  with  the 
fairest  prize  of  the  universe  to  me.  What  else  could 
be  needed  ?  Ah !  there  was  the  fate  of  Nat,  my  com- 
panion, still  shrouded  in  obscurity.  I  determined 
to  question  her  at  once  in  regard  to  him. 

"  Imogene,  although  this  is  hardly  the  proper 
moment,  I  cannot  help  questioning  you  about  the 
fate  of  a  friend  of  mine." 

"  I  know  to  whom  you  refer,"  she  answered, 
quickly.  "  I  have  heard  him  speak  of  you,  but 
he  does  not  know  of  your  existence.  He  is  a  cap- 
tive like  yourself,  save  that  he  seems  perfectly  con- 
tented with  his  fate." 

"  Thank  heaven !  it  seems  indeed  that  a  wonder- 
ful Providence  is  watching  over  all  of  us." 

"  I  believe  he  can  effect  his  escape,  but  it  must 
be  through  your  instrumentality,  for  I  will  not  dare 
to  show  myself  under  the  circumstances." 


2o6  ^^^^  BIDDON,   TRAPPER, 

"  Good,  clever  Nat,  I  will  do  anything  for  him," 
I  exclaimed,  warmly.  "  He  is  a  whole-souled 
fellow,  for  all  he  is  so  odd.  Only  to  think,  he  has 
been  so  nigh  me  all  this  time!  Of  course,  it  is 
my  place  to  assist  him,  as  far  as  lies  in  my  power." 

"  I  have  had  several  conversations  with  him,  in 
all  of  which  he  spoke  of  you.  He  appeared  to  love 
you,  and  regretted  greatly  that  you  were  so  reck- 
less. He  said  he  had  long  striven  to  teach  you  how 
to  hunt  with  caution,  but  never  succeeded.  He 
also  referred  to  a  trapper  named  Bill  Biddon,  the 
one  who  did  his  best  to  save  our  family  when  they 
fell  victims  to  the  savages,  and  who  I  v/ould  give 
all  the  world  to  see.  He  said  he  succeeded,  after 
several  years,  in  making  quite  a  hunter  of  him." 

"Oh!   the  rascal,"   I  laughed,   "just   like  him." 

When  day  dawned  we  continued  our  journey  for 
several  hours.  I  learned  in  the  course  of  our  con- 
versation that  Imogene  Merment  wandered  con- 
tinually among  the  tribes  for  many  miles  around, 
and,  as  I  learned  in  after  years,  her  existence  was 
known  to  points  as  far  opposite  as  Fort  Churchill 
and  Fort  Hall.* 

*  The  Crow  Indians  are  a  numerous  tribe,  subdivided  into  the 
Blackfeet-Sioux,  Dacotah,  Ouk -pa-pas,  Two  Kettle,  and  Minnie, 
besides  several  others.  Each  has  its  separate  village  and  chief, 
but  all  are  on  friendly  relations  with  each  other. 


BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER.  207 

At  noon  I  shot  a  ptarmigan,  which  was  cooked 
and  upon  which  we  made  a  hearty  dinner.  Imo- 
gene  ascended  a  small  eminence  to  ascertain 
whether  any  signs  of  pursuit  were  visible.  None 
were  discovered,  but  we  hurried  forward  until 
nightfall,  when  we  drew  up  for  the  night.  We 
started  a  fire,  and  at  my  urgent  request,  Imogene 
lay  down  beside  it,  while  I  kept  watch.  Our  horses 
were  picketed  at  scarcely  a  rod  distant,  and  yet  in 
the  night  they  became  so  terrified  at  the  approach 
of  some  animal,  that  they  broke  loose  and  fled, 
and  we  never  saw  them  again. 

This  was  a  great  loss  to  us,  but  in  the  morning 
we  continued  our  journey  on  foot,  and  at  noon 
ascended  a  high  mountain,  which  was  a  spur  of 
the  Black  Hills,  lying  between  the  Yellowstone 
and  Missouri.  The  day  was  a  clear,  beautiful  one, 
and  the  fairest  peaks  of  the  mountains,  looming 
up  against  the  blue,  far-off  horizon,  formed  a  fine 
background  to  the  glorious  landscape  spread  out 
before  us.  Never  shall  I  forget  the  magnificent 
scene  which  was  opened  to  our  vision.  To  the 
north,  the  mighty  wilderness  stretched  in  one  un- 
broken tract  as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach,  while 
to  the  southward  the  glistening  waters  of  the  vast 
rivers  could  be  seen,  winding  and  losing  their 
tortuous  channels  in  the  forest  again.     Numerous 


2o8  BILL  BIDDON,  TRAPPER, 

patches  of  prairie  were  visible  to  the  west,  and 
small,  dark  specks  moving  over  their  face,  showed 
us  that  animal  life  was  not  wanting  in  this  favored 
country.  South  of  us,  nestling  in  a  deep  valley, 
could  be  seen  the  tiny  beehive-like  lodges  of  the 
tribe  we  had  left,  seemingly  covering  scarcely  a 
square  rod  of  ground. 

**  Yonder,"  said  Imogene,  pointing  to  the  north- 
ward, **  is  the  tribe  which  holds  your  friend.  The 
village  is  two  days*  journey,  but  the  course  is  direct, 
and  you  cannot  fail  to  find  it.  If  you  wish  to  search 
for  him,  I  will  remain  here  until  you  return.  I 
should  wish  to  approach  no  nearer,  as  it  would  in- 
crease the  danger  to  both  of  us.  Your  friend  has 
hunted  with  the  tribe  in  this  mountain,  and  should 
you  be  at  a  loss  to  find  me  again,  ask  him  to  guide 
you  to  the  '  Death  Rock,'  and  you  will  reach  me 
by  the  most  direct  course." 

I  hesitated  long  before  leaving  Imogene,  but  my 
duty  to  Nat,  and  the  hopeful  view  she  took  of  it, 
finally  decided  me.  She  was  confident  I  should 
find  him  and  be  back  in  a  few  days,  and  urged  me 
to  delay  no  longer.  We  repaired  to  the  "  Death 
Rock,"  where  we  separated.  Imogene  was  famil- 
iar with  its  peculiarities,  and  assured  me  that  in  its 
recesses  she  could  find  security  from  any  animal 


BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER.  209 

foe.*  Before  leaving  her,  I  saw  that  she  was  pro- 
vided with  food  sufficient  to  last  a  week  at  least, 
and  as  she  was  furnished  with  a  rifle  and  ammuni- 
tion, her  situation  was  certainly  as  good  as  my  own. 

*  Death  Rock  is  composed  principally  of  a  vast  cave,  in  which 
It  is  said  a  whole  tribe  of  Indians  once  perished  ;  choosing  death 
by  starvation  rather  than  to  fall  into  the  hands  of  their  enemies. 


210  BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER, 


CHAPTER  XI. 

THE  BRIGADE  AND  AN  OLD  FRIEND. 

After  bidding-  Imogene  good-by,  I  started  on  a 
rapid  pace  to  the  northward.  At  night  I  kindled 
a  fire  by  which  I  slept  in  safety,  and  at  an  early 
hour  resumed  my  journey.  The  character  of  the 
country  continued  much  the  same — broad  belts  of 
prairie  relieved  by  groves  of  trees  and  streams  of 
considerable  magnitude.  Birds  of  all  kinds  whirred 
through  the  air  and  sang  within  the  wood,  and  the 
dark  forms  of  wild  animals  w^ere  more  than  once 
seen  gamboling  in  the  distance. 

At  noon  I  reached  the  banks  of  a  river,  so  large 
that  I  was  pretty  certain  it  was  the  Yellowstone, 
and  hence  was  able  to  judge  pretty  correctly  of 
my  locality.  The  river  was  very  broad,  and  it  was 
quite  a  serious  undertaking  to  cross  it ;  but,  never- 
theless, it  had  to  be  done,  and  I  commenced  mak- 
ing my  preparations. 

As  I  was  stepping  in,  a  sound  of  voices  struck 
me,     I  paused  and  listened,  and  soon  could  hear 


BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER.  2II 

the  loud,  regular  swelling  song  gradually  approach- 
ing nearer  and  nearer,  and  at  stated  intervals  the 
powerful  chorus.  There  was  something  in  the  sound 
of  this  song,  at  such  a  time,  that  was  indescribably 
stirring  and  inspiriting;  and,  as  it  came  nigher 
and  nigher,  and  grew  louder,  its  power  increased. 
Hardly  satisfied  of  the  nature  of  the  approaching 
body,  I  withdrew  a  short  distance,  and  waited  its 
appearance.  Soon  a  large  canoe,  nearly  full  of 
men,  came  to  view  around  a  bend  some  hundred 
yards  distant,  and  it  was  instantly  followed  by 
another  and  another,  all  keeping  time  to  the  words 
of  the  song : 

We  are  going  with  the  tide, 

Yoho  !  yoho ! 
Free  as  the  mountain-winds  we  glide, 

Yoho  !  yoho ! 
Oh  !  ours  is  a  merry  life, 

Yoho  !  yoho ! 
And  full  of  danger,  toil,  and  strife, 
Yoho  !  yoho ! 
Then  join  your  voices 
In  the  glad  refrain, 
And  let  the  mountains 
Echo  back  the  strain. 

As  over  a  score  of  majestic  voices  joined  in  the 
deep  swelling  chorus,  the  echoes  were  awakened 
for  miles  around.  I  watched  them  in  wonder  and 
admiration.     Soon,  to  my  surprise,  they  made  to- 


212  ^J^^^  BIDDON,   TRAPPER. 

ward  the  shore  where  I  stood.  As  it  was  noon, 
they  were  probably  putting  in  for  their  dinner.  In 
a  moment  the  boats  were  hauled  up  on  the  bank, 
and  as  rough  and  hardy  a  set  of  fellows  as  ever 
met,  sprang  upon  the  shore.  A  half  dozen  scattered 
along  the  bank,  and  in  a  moment  returned  bearing 
armfuls  of  sticks  and  fuel.  A  huge  fire  was  soon 
blazing  and  roaring,  an  enormous  quantity  of  meat 
steaming  and  spitting,  and  the  men,  excepting  the 
cook,  were  lolling  about  on  the  grass,  each  one 
smoking  and  chatting,  and  making  a  scene  of  pleas- 
ant confusion  and  enjoyment. 

I  now  stepped  forth  from  my  concealment. 
Several  turned  their  faces  toward  me  as  I  passed 
them,  but  no  unusual  amount  of  astonishment  was 
manifested.  I  made  my  way  to  a  group  of  three, 
and  seated  myself  beside  them. 

"  Whar'd  you  come  from?"  asked  a  short,  gruff - 
looking  man. 

"  No  place  in  particular,  at  present,"  I  replied, 
pleasantly. 

"  One  of  them  NorVest  chaps,  I  s'pose  ?  " 

"  No,  sir ;  I  am  no  trapper  at  all,  but  a  mere 
adventurer  in  these  parts." 

"  Pooty  story  to  tell  them  as  will  believe  it,"  he 
retorted,  angrily. 

'*  I  am  sure  it  is  immaterial  with  me  whether  you 


"  A  fight !  a  fight !   make  a  ring  for  them.' 


BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER. 


215 


believe  it  or  not.  If  I  were  a  member  of  the 
Northwest  Fur  Company,  I  should  not  be  ashamed 
or  afraid  to  own  it,  as  I  believe  that  is  as  respectable 
and  honorable  as  the  one  in  whose  service  you  are," 

"  Boys !  do  you  hear  that  ?  "  called  out  a  fellow 
beside  me.  **  Yer's  one  of  them  sneaking  chaps — 
a  NorVv^ester,  and  he's  insulted  us — " 

"  Beg  your  pardon,  sir,"  I  interrupted ;  "  I  did  no 
such  thing." 

"  Do  you  hear  that,  I  say  ?  "  he  called  out,  with- 
out regarding  my  words.  "  Here's  a  sneaking  Nor'- 
wester  cracking  up  his  party  afore  us." 

I  was  so  provoked  that  I  made  no  reply  or  noticed 
him.  His  words  attracted  their  attention,  and,  anx- 
ious to  see  the  trouble,  they  gathered  round. 

"  What's  up  ?  "  demanded  a  stumpy  fellow,  push- 
ing his  head  in  between  the  others. 

"A  fight!  a  fight!" 

"  Make  a  ring  for  'em." 

"  Blow  me,  if  he  don't  look  like  one  o'  them 
Nor'westers  as  sent  Governor  Semple  out  the 
world.*     Go  in,  Tom  !  " 

*  In  an  affray  between  two  parties,  belonging  respectively  to 
the  Hudson  Bay  and  Northwest  Fur  Companies,  the  leader  of 
the  former,  Mr.  Semple,  was  shot  by  a  member  of  the  latter. 
This  happened  some  years  before  the  date  of  our  story,  but  for 
a  long  time  there  was  ill-feeling  and  frequent  encounters  between 
the  members  of  the  companies. 


2i6  ^^^I^  BIDDON,  TRAPPER. 

**  I'll  maul  him  as  soon  as  I  get  in  fightin'  order/* 
said  Tom — he  of  my  first  acquaintance. 

Matters  were  now  getting  serious.  A  collision 
between  the  redoubtable  Tom  and  myself  seemed 
unavoidable.  His  impudent  bravado  and  insults  had 
roused  me  somewhat,  and  I  made  up  my  mind  that 
I  should  withdraw  nothing  I  had  uttered,  and  bear 
none  of  his  insolence. 

"  What's  the  row  ?  "  demanded  another ;  "  I  don't 
understand  it." 

**  Why,  here's  a  sneakin'  Nor'wester,"  answered 
Tom,  **  blowin'  'bout  things,  and  I've  made  up  my 
mind  I  won't  stand  it ;  "  and  he  continued  his  war- 
like preparations. 

"  That's  right,  Tom,  go  in  and  win,"  added 
several  voices. 

*'  Gentlemen,"  said  I,  "  all  I  ask  is  that  you  shall 
understand  this  matter  and  show  fair  play — " 

"  We'll  do  that,  you !  "  interrupted  several, 

"  In  the  first  place,"  I  continued,  "  I  have  said 
nothing  against  the  company  in  whose  service  you 
are.  This  man,  whom  you  call  Tom,  accused  me  of 
being  a  member  of  a  rival  company ;  I  replied  I 
was  not,  although  I  should  not  be  ashamed  if  such 
were  the  case,  as  I  considered  the  latter  as  respect- 
able as  yours.  He  avers,  however,  I  have  insulted 
you,  and  seems  determined  to  avenge  it,  and  I  am 


BILL  BIDDON,  TRAPPER.  217 

perfectly  willing  to  gratify  him.  As  I  told  him,  I 
am  not  in  the  service  of  any  companv,  but  am  a  mere 
adventurer  in  these  parts.  With  this  explanation  I 
am  now  ready  for  any  proceeding  he  may  wish." 

"  Smash  me  to  nuthin',  ram  me  down  and  shoot 
me,  if  thar  ain't  Jarsey,  or  I'm  a  sinner !  "  exclaimed 
a  familiar  voice,  and  the  same  instant  Bill  Biddon 
stepped  into  the  ring  before  me.  "  Give  us  your 
paw,  Jarsey." 

He  grasped  my  hand  and  gave  a  vigorous  gripe, 
while  his  scarred  countenance  was  dissolved  in  one 
great  broad  smile.  It  is  needless  to  say  I  was  de- 
lighted beyond  measure  at  this  unexpected  meet- 
ing. 

"Why,  Bill,  I  little  thought  to  meet  you  here." 

"And  yer's  as  what  thinks  Bill  didn't  think  so 
himself." 

During  this  passage  of  words  between  us,  the 
others  stood  wondering  and  perplexed.  The  honest 
old  trapper  turned,  and  seeing  Tom  standing  with 
his  fists  still  clinched,  shouted: 

"  Ef  you  say  another  word  to  that  gentleman 
thar,  as  is  worth  forty  like  you,  there'll  be  only  a 
grease-spot  left  of  you.  Do  you  hear,  eh  ?  "  and  he 
shook  his  ponderous  fist  beneath  his  nose. 

The  fellow  did  hear,  and  with  a  muttering,  "  It's 


2i8  -B^-^^  BIDDON.   TRAPPER. 

cu'rous,  I  allow,"  donned  his  coat  with  the  most 
perfect  meekness: 

"  Now,"  said  Biddon  facing  the  rest,  "  if  thar  are 
any  'bout  yer  as  wants  to  take  up  this  fout,  why  jist 
step  forward  and  get  lammed." 

"  Is  he  a  Nor'wester  ?  "  asked  one,  breaking  the 
perfect  silence. 

"  What  you  want  to  know  fur  ?  " 

"  'Cause  if  he  is,  he  can't  pass  this  crowd  without 
swallerin'  them  words." 

"  What  words  ?  "  demanded  Biddon,  fiercely. 

"  What  Tom  said  he  said." 

"  Have  I  not  explained — "  I  commenced. 

"  Now  jist  hold  on,  Jarsey,"  interrupted  the 
trapper,  turning  toward  me  with  a  backward  wave 
of  his  hand.  "  Now,  hold  on,  you,  fur  ef  you  take 
back  anything  you've  said,  shoot  me,  ef  /  don't  lick 
you.  Ogh !  "  Then  turning  to  the  others  he  con- 
tinued, "  He  ain't  goin'  to  take  back  nothin'  he's 
said  yerabouts;  and  ef  Tom  Wilson  thar  don't 
swaller  what  he  said,  yer's  as  will  make  him  do  it." 

"  I  mought've  be  mistaken,"  said  the  now 
thoroughly-frightened  Tom. 

"  That  won't  do." 

"  Wal,  he  didn't  say  so,"  he  jerked  out. 

"That'll   answer.     S'posen  I  say  he  is  a  Nor*- 


BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER.  219 

wester,  how  'bout  that  ?  "  demanded  Biddon,  glaring 
about  on  the  rest. 

There  was  no  response.     All  was  still  as  death, 

"  Wal,  boys,"  added  Bill,  returning  to  his  good 
nature,  "  he  aint  a  trapper ;  never  took  a  skin  in  his 
born  days ;  is  a  parfect  gentleman,  and  I'll  make 
you  'quainted  with  Bill  Relmond,  from  the  States, 
or,  as  I  call  him,  jarsey,  as  fine  a  chap  as  ever 
tramped  these  parts," 

The  scene  that  followed  was  singular  and  amus- 
ing All  crowded  around  me,  smiling  and  talking 
and  shaking  hands;  and  the  first  hand  I  grasped 
was  Tom  Wilson's. 

"  Hope  you  won't  mind  what  I  said ; "  he  spoke 
in  a  lower  tone,  "  I  orter  been  lammed  for  it,  sure." 

"  Don't  refer  to  it,"  I  laughed ;  "  I  suppose  you 
were  only  anxious  for  a  little  arrtusement  to  pass 
away  time," 

"  That's  it  'zactly,  Jarsey,  you're  a  trump." 

"  It's  my  private  opine,"  called  out  Biddon,  **  that 
this  coon  is  goin'  inter  these  eatables,  and  ef  you 
wants  a  bite,  Jarsey,  you'd  better  jine." 

All  now  crowded  around  the  meal-pot,  and  com- 
menced devouring  its  contents  with  the  avidity  of 
wild  animals.  It  consisted  mainly  of  pemmican 
(dried  buffalo  flesh),  a  food  much  in  vogue  in  the 
northwest,  with  several  biscuits  and  some  scalding 


220  ^^^^  BIDDON,  TRAPPER. 

tea.  The  meal  finished,  the  men  instantly  produced 
their  pipes,  which  they  indulged  in  for  ten  or  fifteen 
minutes.  The  boats  were  then  shoved  into  the 
water,  the  cooking-utensils  placed  on  board,  and 
preparations  made  for  starting. 

'' Whar  you  bound  to?"  asked  Biddon,  just  as 
they  were  ready. 

''  The  Blackfeet-Sioux,"  I  answered,  unable  to 
repress  a  smile. 

"  The  Blackf eet-Sioux  ?  "  he  repeated. 

"  Yes ;  do  you  know  their  grounds  ?  " 

"  I's  'bout  twenty  miles  down-stream — that  is  the 
village.  We  cac'late  to  camp  thereabouts  to-night. 
What,  in  the  name  of  beavers,  do  you  want  with 
them?" 

**  ril  explain  matters  when  we  have  a  better 
opportunity,"  I  answered. 

"  Jump  in  with  me  then,  an'  Til  git  Tom  Wilson 
to  rest  a  while,  and  we'll  talk  over  matters  and 
things." 

I  sprang  into  the  boat,  and  the  brigade  was  soon 
under  way.  The  Yellowstone,  being  broad  and  deep 
and  the  current  quite  powerful,  the  work  was  com- 
paratively light  The  song  was  again  taken  up  by 
the  voyageurs,  all  joining  in  the  chorus  and  keeping 
time  with  the  measured  dip  of  their  paddles.  I 
seated  myself  in  the  stern,  beside  the  steersman, 


BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER.  221 

who  I  found  to  be  a  clerk  in  the  Hudson  Bay  Com- 
pany, and  a  gentleman. 

"  How  long  will  you  remain  with  us,  Mr.  Rel- 
mond  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Only  until  night." 

"  I  was  in  hopes  you  would  accompany  us  to  the 
settlement." 

"  I  should  be  glad  to  do  so,  but  circumstances 
forbid." 

*'  It  was  quite  fortunate,"  he  smiled,  ''  that  you 
and  Biddon  were  acquainted.  He  is  a  noble  fel- 
low." 

"  Most  assuredly  he  is.  I  accompanied  him,  as  a 
seeker  of  adventures,  last  summer  from  Indepen- 
dence, and  we  separated  in  the  autumn,  while  in  the 
wilderness.  I  was  considerably  surprised  to  find 
him  in  your  service." 

"  He  had  a  misunderstanding  with  his  employers, 
I  believe.  He  had  a  dispute  with  one  of  their 
agents,  and  gave  him  a  severe  pounding.  He  was 
reproved  rather  sharply  for  this  and  left  the  company 
in  disgust.  This  was  during  the  winter.  Shortly 
after  he  visited  Red  River  settlement,  and  volun- 
teered his  services,  and  they  were  gladly  accepted, 
as  his  skill  was  known  to  many." 

"  He  has  been  then  but  a  short  time  with  you." 

"  Only  a  few  weeks — ^but  long  enough  to  let  us 


222  ^^^^  BIDDON,  TRAPPER. 

know  the  value  of  his  services.  This  brigade  is  all 
owing  to  him." 

"How   so?" 

"  You  are  aware  we  are  now  in  the  United  States 
territory.  It  is  not  often  that  we  extend  our  work 
into  it,  except  in  Oregon,  which  has  lately  fallen  into 
the  hands  of  the  Americans.  Biddon  had  engaged 
a  large  quantity  of  furs  of  the  Indians  in  the  neigh- 
borhood, intending  them  for  one  of  their  fur  com- 
panies, but  after  his  dispute  he  offered  them  to  us, 
and  this  brigade  was  dispatched  for  the  purpose 
of  collecting  them.  He  will  find  there  is  quite  a 
pile  of  money  due  him  at  York  fort  when  he  arrives 
there." 

Further  time  was  spent  in  conversation  with  the 
clerks  when  I  noticed  a  person  had  taken  Biddon's 
place  at  the  oars.  The  trapper  motioned  me  beside 
him,  and  seating  ourselves  in  the  opposite  end  of 
the  boat  he  said : 

"  Now  we'll  have  a  talk,  Jarsey,  ogh ! " 

"  The  first  thing  to  be  knowed,"  said  Biddon,  *'  is 
how  in  the  name  of  human  natur  you  come  in  these 
parts.     How  war  it,  Jarsey  ?  " 

"  You  must  remember,  Biddon,  IVe  been  a  pris- 
oner for  the  last  six  months." 

"Did  you  ever  hear  nothin'  of  Greeny?" 


BILL  BIDDON,  TRAPPER.  223 

"  Yes ;  a  rumor  reached  me  that  he  was  living 
with  a  tribe  of  Indians  to  the  east  of  us." 

"  Altogether  onpossible,"  answered  the  trapper, 
with   a   shake   of  his  head. 

"Why  is  it  impossible?" 

"  He's  had  his  ha'r  raised  sure,  and  never  seed 
the  next  day  arter  we  seed  the  last  on  him." 

"  I  am  more  hopeful  than  you  are.  Recollect  / 
have  been  a  captive  and  am  now  here  without  bodily 
harm." 

"  It's  qua'r,  I  allow,  how  you  come  out,  as  you  did. 
The  reds  down  in  them  parts  are  ramparageous,  and 
if  it  hadn't  been  for  that  Jim,  you  spoke  about,  and 
that  gal,  you'd  a  gone  under  sure.  I's  tuck  once 
by  them  same  chaps  one  time.  Me  an'  Snapper 
Jack  was  sat  on  one  dark  night  in  an  awful  snow- 
storm by  a  hundred  on  'em.  They  blazed  right  into 
us,  and  Jack  rolled  over  with  a  pound  of  lead  in  him 
and  never  said  a  word.  I's  purty  well  riddled  in 
my  lower  story,  but  I  tuk  through  and  got  off  with 
my  ha'r,  while  Jack  never  knowed  who  tuk  his. 
They  cac'lated  on  toastin'  you  up  brown,  and  would 
ef  it  want  fur  that  gal,  as  I's  sayin'  while  he's  had  it 
all." 

"  I  cannot  yet  see,  Biddon,  why  there  is  not  a 
probability  of  Nat's  being  alive.  The  Indians  in 
these   parts   are   on   friendly   intercourse   with   the 


224  BILL  BIDDONy  TRAPPER. 

traders,  and  it  is  in  this  region,  if  anywhere,  that  he 
will  be  found." 

"  I  don't  b'lieve  he's  about.  They  got  him  down 
thar,  and  he  got  it  down  thar,  sure." 

These  words  of  the  trapper  dampened  my  expecta- 
tions greatly.  Much  of  the  joy  of  my  hope  was  that 
I  expected  to  again  grasp  the  hand  of  my  old  friend, 
and  the  thought  that  he  had  long  been  dead  made 
me  sad  and  gloomy.  However,  I  was  not  ready  to 
give  up  all  hope,  and  determined  that  I  should  be 
satisfied  of  his  fate  before  I  returned  to  the  States. 

The  brigade  proceeded  regularly  and  rapidly  down 
the  Yellowstone,  until  the  sun  sinking  in  the  west, 
warned  them  that  night  was  at  hand.  The  steersman 
informed  me  they  should  not  be  able  to  reach  the 
Indian  village  that  night,  but  would  early  the  next 
day.  Just  as  the  shadows  were  blending  with  the 
darkness  on  the  river  banks,  the  brigade  ran  into 
shore  for  the  night's  encampment.  There  was  a 
dense  forest  on  either  side  of  us,  which  rendered  our 
situation  dark  and  gloomy;  but  this  was  soon  dis- 
pelled by  the  jolly  z'oyageitrs.  Fuel  was  collected, 
and  a  great  roaring  fire  crackled  and  blazed  cheerily 
around  us ;  and  the  men  passing  to  and  fro,  chatting 
and  joking,  the  confusion  of  preparations  for  sup- 
per, made  a  scene  well  calculated  to  dispel  all  gloomy 
reveries.    The  three  boats  were  hauled  tip  on  the 


BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER.  225 

banks,  turned  over,  and  their  contents  scattered 
among  the  owners,  and  all  gathered  around  the 
hearty  evening  meal.  These  hardy  fellows  after 
the  laborious  day's  work,  their  appetites  sharpened, 
and  healthy  truly, 

"  Ate  like  horses,  when  you  hear  them  eat." 

The  meal  finished,  the  indispensable  pipes  were 
in  requisition.  Three  or  four  huge  fires  were 
kindled,  around  which  the  men  lazily  stretched 
themselves,  to  while  away  the  hour  that  must  elapse 
ere  they  "  turned  in  "  for  the  night.  The  brigade 
included  men  in  it,  who  had  trapped  and  hunted  the 
shores  of  the  Frozen  Sea  to  the  plains  of  the  Kansas, 
and  from  Labrador  to  the  mouth  of  the  Columbia, 
beyond  the  Rocky  Mountains.  They  had  encoun- 
tered every  imaginable  foe :  the  intense  cold  and  the 
polar  bear  of  the  far  North,  and  the  innumerable 
hordes  of  savages  of  the  more  temperate  regions; 
and  now  they  recounted  their  thrilling  reminiscences 
to  each  other,  and  speculated  upon  the  fate  still  in 
store  for  them.  The  hour  passed  rapidly,  and  ere 
I  was  aware,  the  voyageiirs  were  gathering  their 
blankets  around  them  for  the  night's  rest. 

"  Come,  bundle  up,  Jarsey,"  said  Biddon,  "  for 
thar'Il  be  no  time  to  snooze  in  the  daylight." 

The  men  were  stretched  at  every  point  around 


226  ^^^^  BIDDON,   TRAPPER. 

the  fire,  their  feet  being  toward  it,  their  heads 
radiating  outward,  so  that  the  three  groups  resem- 
bled the  same  number  of  immense  wheels.  As  most 
of  the  places  were  occupied,  I  lay  a  little  beyond 
the  circle,  within  a  foot  or  two  of  Biddon.  The 
fires  now  smoldered,  and  the  heavy  darkness  again 
settled  over  wood  and  river.  Nothing  disturbed 
the  deep  silence  save  the  faint  flow  of  the 
Yellowstone,  or  the  dull  noise  of  an  ember  as  it 
broke  apart,  and  now  and  then  the  distant  wail  of 
some  wild  animal.  But  a  short  time  elapsed  ere 
I  joined  the  rest  in  the  land  of  dreams. 

The  night  passed  away  without  any  event  worthy 
of  note ;  and  the  first  apprisal  I  had  of  the  approach 
of  day,  was  by  hearing  loud  cries  of  "  Leve !  leve ! 
leve !  "  *  uttered  by  numerous  voices. 

Starting  up,  I  saw  the  voyageurs  were  all  astir, 
and  making  ready  to  embark.  The  boats  were 
launched,  and  being  too  early  for  breakfast,  the  men 
sprang  in  and  seized  the  oars. 

"  When  we  halt  for  breakfast,"  said  the  steersman, 
"  it  will  be  at  the  Indian  village,  which  I  understand 
is  your  destination." 

With  the  same  inspiring  song  of  yesterday,  the 
men  bent  to  their  oars,  and  the  boats  shot  rapidly 
through  the  foaming  water.     In  the  course  of  an 

*  Arouse,  or  get  up. 


BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER. 


227 


hour  or  more,  the  brigade  put  in  for  breakfast,  and 
the  same  bustling  scene  that  had  taken  place  the 
night  before  was  re-enacted. 

The  place  chosen  was  a  broad,  open  plot  of  grass, 
reaching  down  to  the  water's  edge,  and  extending 
some  hundred  feet  back,  when  the  edge  of  the 
forest  was  reached.  No  signs  of  Indians  were  seen, 
and  I  was  somewhat  puzzled  to  know  how  it  was 
known  they  were  in  the  vicinity.  The  clerk  men- 
tioned before,  explained  to  me  that  Biddon  had 
described  the  halting  spot,  and  the  distance  so 
accurately,  that  there  could  be  no  mistake,  and  the 
savages  would  soon  make  their  appearance. 

We  had  scarcely  spoken,  when  a  movement  was 
heard  in  the  forest,  and  several  Indians  made  their 
appearance.  They  seemed  to  understand  the  mean- 
ing of  the  brigade ;  for,  directly  behind  them  came 
numbers  of  others  bearing  loads  of  peltries — the  furs 
of  beavers,  foxes,  badgers,  lynxes,  martens,  otters, 
and  wolverines.  A  barter  at  once  commenced,  and 
in  less  than  half  an  hour  the  whole  array  was 
deposited  in  the  boats,  and  the  Indians  were  proudly 
parading  in  the  gaudy  trinkets  and  dresses  which 
had  just  fallen  to  their  lot. 

**  Where  is  their  village  ?  "  I  asked  of  Biddon. 

"  A  mile  or  so  back  in  the  woods ;  you  can't  miss 
it." 


228  ^^^^  BIDDON,  TRAPPER. 

"  I  can  remain  here  without  danger,  can  I  not  ? ' 

"  Yas,  I  guess  so — hold  on,  I'll  fix  it  for  you." 

With  this  he  strode  rapidly  toward  a  man  who 
appeared  to  be  the  chief,  and  commenced  a  con- 
versation. He  understood  the  Sioux  tongue  well 
enough  to  hold  quite  an  intelligible  conversation. 
The  talk  lasted  but  a  moment,  when  he  returned. 

"  You  needn't  be  skeerish,"  said  he ;  "  I've  made 
it  all  right.  I  told  that  old  chap  you  wanted  to  take 
a  look  at  the  country  hereabouts,  to  skeer  up  some 
furs  fur  us  agin.  He  was  a  little  s'pishus  at  fust, 
shoot  me  ef  he  warn't!  and  he  axed  ef  you  wanted 
to  run  off  with  that  gal  o'  theirs,  'cause  ef  you  war, 
you'd  better  leave  yer  ha'r  behind  you.  There's 
been  two  or  three  round  these  parts  after  her,  and  he 
won't  stand  it  no  longer.  You've  got  to  be  mighty 
shy,  Jarsey,  I  kin  tell  yer ;  but  I  hope  you'll  git  her 
fur  all  that,  ogh !  " 

"  I  am  grateful  to  you  for  this  kindness,  Bid- 
don " 

"  Never  mind  'bout  that ;  come  to  the  pint  ef 
you've  got  anything  to  say." 

"  I  had  nothing  except  to  express  my  thanks, 
which  you  seem  averse  to  receiving." 

"  It  does  go  again  my  stummick,  I  allow,  Jarsey ; 


BILL  BIDDON,  TRAPPER.  229 

when  you  come  the  squaw  over  me,  I  can't  stand  it. 
Yer's  as  likes  to  talk  fair  and  squar,  and  leave  the 
rest.     Shoot  me  ef  I  doesn't !    Wal  I  does,  ogh !  " 

"  I  suppose  the  time  has  come  for  us  to  separate, 
then,  Biddon  ?  " 

"Leastways  it's  close  at  hand.  Think  you'd 
better  go  up  to  Selkirk  settlement  with  us;  don't 
s'pose  you  will;  think  you're  a  fool,  shoot  me  ef  I 
don't,  ogh !  " 

"  It  seems  our  separation  is  to  be  something  like 
it  was  before,"  I  laughed.  "  I  believe  you  had  a 
small  opinion  of  my  abilities  at  that  time." 

"  Wal,  yer's  as  hopes  you'll  come  out  right  side 
up  this  time.  In  course  I'll  have  a  glim.pse  of  that 
ugly  face  of  your'n  agin.     In  course." 

"I  don't  know  about  that.  As  you  have  gone 
into  the  service  of  the  Hudson  Bay  Company,  your 
sphere  of  action  will  be  far  removed  from  mine,  and 
it  will  be  an  occurrence  which  I  cannot  imagine  at 
this  time  that  will  bring  us  together." 

"  That  ain't  so  sartin,"  said  the  trapper,  in  a  low, 
confidential  tone.  "  I  rather  opine  I'll  be  down  in 
Westport  or  Independence  this  fall,  and  ef  these 
fellows  cac'lates  on  keepin'  me  around,  they've  got 


230  J5/LL  BIDDON,  TRAPPER. 

to  step  round  'emselves.     Shoot  me  if  they  hain% 
ogh ! " 

"  I  hope  you  will  not  spend  your  life  in  the  dreary 
region  north  of  this,  for  it  will  indeed  be  a  dreary, 
lonely  life  for  you." 

"  Wal,  you  see,  Jarsey,"  he  continued,  with  a 
shade  of  feeling,  "  it  don't  make  much  difference 
whar  I  traps.  Yer's  as  s'pects  to  go  under  some- 
whar  in  the  mountains,  and  leave  my  topknot  fur 
the  buzzards  and  reds,  and  it  mought  as  well  be 
in  one  part  as  t'other  of  this  country." 

"  Fudge,  Biddon,  don't  talk  that  way.     Why^  I 
am  sure  I  shall  see  you  settled  down  in  the  States 
with  a  wife  and  a  dozen  children — " 

I  paused  as  I  noticed  the  trapper's  face.  Some 
strange  emotion  was  gaining  the  mastery  over  him; 
but  he  conquered  in  a  minute. 

"  Never  talk  that  way  agin,  Jarsey ;  I  can't  stand 
it." 

"  Pardon  me ;  you  will  soon  be  under  way,"  I 
spoke,  wishing  to  pass  from  the  allusion  which  had 
been  so  painful  to  him.  He  turned,  and  looking 
at  the  brigade,  which  was  making  preparations  to 
start,  answered: 

"  Yas ;  the  boys  are  near  ready,  and  they  won't 


BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER.  23 1 

wait.  What  yer  goin'  to  do,  Jarsey,  when  we  leave 
you  'mong  the  reds  ?  " 

'*  I  have  told  you,  Biddon,  that  my  sole  purpose  is 
to  seek  out  Nat  Todd.  I  have  given  you  an  account 
of  my  meeting  and  partial  flight  with  Imogene,  the 
captive,  who  has  told  me  of  his  whereabouts.  She 
is  now  waiting  at  Death  Rock  for  me,  and  is  as 
confident  as  I  am  that  I  shall  bring  Nat  with  me. 
These  Indians,  believing  Imogene  to  be  with  the 
other  tribe,  will  not  suspect  her  flight  unless  a  run- 
ner arrives  here  and  acquaints  them  with  it ;  but  I 
have  little  fear  of  that,  as  I  have  no  expectation  of 
remaining  any  length  of  time." 

**  Wal,  as  that  little  gal  has  seed  Nat,  of  course 
he's  kickin'.  Bless  her  soul !  I'd  like  to  see  her 
sweet  face,  but  I  s'pose  the  brigade  can't  spare  me 
just  now.  Jarsey,  I've  my  s'picions  that  that  other 
sperit  is  somewhere  out  toward  Oregon,  'mong  a 
tribe  of  redskins.  I've  had  my  s'picions  I  say,  but 
I'll  say  nothin'  more  now  'cept  to  kind  of  hint  I  may 
take  a  tramp  out  in  them  parts  some  day  to  see  ef 
thar  be  signs  of  her." 

"  I  sincerely  hope  that  such  may  be  the  case,  al- 
though I  cannot  be  as  sanguine  as  you  are.  Should 
you  rescue  her,  the  debt  of  gratitude — " 

"There!  that'll  do,  ogh ! "  interrupted  Biddon, 
imperatively.    "  Such  things  go  agin  my  stummick. 


232  ^^^^  BIDDON,  TRAPPER. 

and  I  don't  want  to  hear  'em.  As  you're  on  the 
track  of  Nat,  go,  fur  he  may  be  somewhar  yit,  in 
spite  of  the  fears  I  have  that  he  isn't,  arter  all." 

"  Rest  assured  I  shall  leave  no  stone  unturned.  I 
shall  seek  him  at  once." 

"  And  when  you  finds  him,  jest  tell  him  old  Bill 
Biddon  is  about,  and  ready  to  hunt  savages  with  him 
any  time,  ef  he  don't  git  behind  me  when  shootin' 
time  comes.  Ogh!  ogh !  "  and  the  trapper  enjoyed 
his  joke  merrily.  He  stopped  suddenly  and  looked 
at  the  brigade.  A  few  moments  more  and  they 
would  be  under  way. 

"  Wal,  Jarsey,  talkin'  time's  gittin'  mighty  short. 
I'd  like  to  talk  longer,  but  can't  do  it  this  time. 
Hope  we'll  have  a  time  down  in  the  States  'fore 
long." 

"  I  sincerely  trust  we  shall,"  I  answered,  unwill- 
ing to  turn  away  from  the  hopeful  picture  which 
he  was  drawing  for  himself. 

"  And  we'll  have  Nat  'long  with  us,"  he  added. 

"  Of  course,  for  I  am  sure  he  would  not  willingly 
miss  an  opportunity  of  seeing  his  old  friend  again. 
Of  course,  Biddon,  we  shall  meet,  if  not  in  this 
world,  I  hope  in  the  next." 

"  P'r'aps  so,  though  I  can't  tell  till  we  gits  there. 
Don't  know  much  'bout  them  matters,  ogh !  " 

At  this  moment  the  voice  of  the  steersman  was 


BILL  BIDDON,  TRAPPER.  233 

heard,  ordering  the  men  to  their  places.     Bidden 
turned,  took  a  step,  then  halted  and  faced  me. 

"  Good-by,  Jarsey." 

He  extended  his  hand,  but  ere  I  could  take  it 
it  was  hastily  withdrawn.  He  mumbled  something, 
dashed  his  hand  across  his  face,  and  strode  rapidly 
toward  the  boat. 

*'  Good-by,  Biddon.  God  bless  you ! "  I  called 
after  him. 

The  voyageurs  seized  their  oars,  and  in  a  few 
moments  they  were  in  the  stream,  their  same  cheery 
song  echoing  as  loudly  and  as  joyously  as  before. 
I  stood  upon  the  bank,  watching  them  as  the  current 
bore  them'  onward.  In  a  few  moments  they  reached 
a  bend  in  the  river — Biddon  made  a  signal  to  me, 
and  the  next  minute  they  had  all  vanished. 

As  the  brigade  vanished  down  the  river,  and  the 
song  of  the  voyageurs  grew  fainter  and  fainter, 
until  it  died  away  in  the  distant  windings  of  the 
Yellowstone,  I  awoke  from  the  mournful  reverie 
into  which  I  had  fallen,  and  turned  to  the  work  be- 
fore me.  There  was  a  dozen  Indians  around,  all  busy 
with  their  new  possessions.  Some  were  parading 
pompously  in  their  new  blankets,  some  examining 
their  glittemg  knives,  and  others  wrenching  oflE 
great  mouthfuls  from  huge  twists  of  tobacco,  and 
all  evidently  in  the  highest  spirits.     The  chief  had 


234  J^I^^  BIDDON,  TRAPPER. 

been  presented  with  a  fine,  polished  rifle,  and  he 
was  standing  apart,  trying  its  lock,  and  "  drawing 
bead  "  on  different  objects  in  the  distance. 

I  waited  till  he  appeared  satisfied,  and  then  ap- 
proached and  made  a  complimentary  remark ;  I  saw 
at  once  it  was  not  comprehended,  and  there  was  not 
probably  a  savage  who  could  speak  a  word  of 
English  in  the  tribe.  However,  as  they  spoke  the 
same  tongue  as  the  tribe  in  which  I  spent  my 
captivity,  my  situation  in  this  respect  was  not  as 
bad  as  it  might  have  been. 

In  the  course  of  half  an  hour,  the  chief  started 
toward  his  village,  the  others  sauntering  along  be- 
hind him,  and  mvself  at  his  side.  His  rifle  was 
now  thrown  over  his  shoulder,  and  he  seemed  to 
have  lost  all  interest  in  it  as  he  walked  thoughtfully 
forward,  his  dark  eyes  bent  upon  the  ground.  A 
few  minutes'  walk  through  the  forest  brought  us  to 
the  Indian  village.  It  was  so  similar  to  the  one 
before  described,  that  it  needs  no  mention  here. 

The  Blackfeet-Sioux  are  one  of  the  many  divi- 
sions of  the  Dacotah  or  Sioux  tribe,  whose  hunting- 
grounds  include  the  greater  part  of  the  vast  terri- 
tory of  Nebraska.  These  subdivisions  of  this  numer- 
ous people  are  tribes  within  themselves.  Although 
speaking  the  same  tongue,  they  are  separate  anci 
literally  independent  of  each  other.     Each  has  its 


BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER.  235 

village  and  chief,  whose  authority  is  absolute.  Like 
all  North  American  Indians,  their  life  is  a  migratory 
one ;  and  the  traveler  who  to-day  finds  them  located 
on  the  Yellowstone  or  Little  Missouri,  may,  a  year 
after,  find  them  as  far  westward  as  the  Great  Falls 
of  the  Missouri. 

My  advent  among  these  savages  excited  no  un- 
usual attention,  as  they  are  often  visited  by  traders 
and  hunters.  The  chief  took  me  to  his  own  lodge, 
where  all  the  attention  I  could  wish  was  given. 
I  was  gladly  surprised  to  find  upon  the  next  day, 
that  there  was  a  half-breed  among  them  who  could 
speak  the  English  tongue.  His  acquaintance  I 
soon  made.  He  was  a  middle-aged  man,  who  had 
spent  most  of  his  life  in  trapping,  sometimes  as  far 
northward  as  the  Saskatchewan,  and  v/ho  often 
acted  as  interpreter  for  his  tribe.  He  possessed 
the  daring  hardihood  of  the  French  trapper,  and 
the  low,  ferocious  cunning  of  the  savage.  He  had 
ever  considered  this  tribe  as  his  people,  having  a 
squaw  and  several  children. 

From  this  half-breed  I  learned  that  the  flight  o:' 
Imogene  was  not  yet  discovered,  and  that  the  tribe 
which  held  Nat  was  about  a  dozen  miles  to  the  east- 
ward I  informed  the  chief,  through  the  inter- 
preter, that  I  should  make  several  days'  ramble 
through  the  woods,  in  order  to  get  a  better  idea  of 


236  BILL  BIDDON,  TRAPPER. 

the  face  of  the  country  and  of  its  resources.  He 
seemed  to  believe  I  really  was  an  agent  of  one  of 
the  fur  companies,  and  offered  me  an  escort.  I 
declined,  however,  and  the  next  morning  started  on 
foot  in  the  direction  of  the  tribe  alluded  to. 


BILL  BIDDON,  TRAPPER.  237 


CHAPTER  XII. 


FOUND  AT  LAST. 


I  TOOK  a  direction  nearly  due  east  toward  the 
Black  Hills.  Near  the  middle  of  the  day  I  reached 
the  shore  of  a  lake.  It  was  a  small,  beautiful  sheet 
of  water,  its  glistening  surface  unruffled  by  a 
single  ripple,  and  I  stood  a  long  time  gazing  upon 
its  placid  bosom.  The  blue  outline  of  the  opposite 
shore  was  faintly  visible  in  the  distance,  and  here 
and  there  the  green  face  of  a  tiny  island  protruded 
from  its  surface  adding  greatly  to  the  picturesque- 
ness  of  the  scene. 

As  I  stood  looking  dreamily  out  upon  this  lake, 
my  eyes  rested  upon  a  small  speck,  just  discernible 
far  toward  the  other  side.  It  was  too  small  and 
dark  to  be  an  island,  and,  furthermore,  I  fancied  it 
was  moving.  A  moment  more  satisfied  me  that  it 
was  a  canoe  crossing  the  lake  nearly  to  the  point 
upon  which  I  was  standing.  So  small  and  black 
was  it,  that  for  a  long  time  I  was  tempted  to  believe 
it  was  nothing  but  a  bird  floating  upon  the  sur- 
face; but  the  flashing  of  the  oars  in  the  sunshine 


238  ^^^^  BIDDON,   TRAPPER. 

showed  its  true  nature,  and  I  waited  anxiously  its 
approach. 

On  it  came,  slowly  and  steadily,  its  form  gradu-. 
ally  increasing  as  it  approached,  until  I  could 
discover  the  .outlines  of  a  single  man  propelling 
it  over  the  water.  A  sudden  hope  that  it  might  be 
Nat  himself  came  over  me,  but  as  it  came  nigher, 
the  dazzling  plumes  of  a  savage  convinced  me  of 
my  mistake.  It  struck  me  as  a  little  singular  that 
the  Indian,  solitary  and  alone,  should  approach  so 
unhesitatingly  a  stranger,  and  I  was  upon  the  point 
of  concealing  myself;  but,  knowing  that  I  must 
have  been  seen,  and  that  such  a  proceeding  would 
only  awaken  suspicion  upon  his  part,  I  remained 
boldly  in  view. 

A  few  minutes  later  and  the  canoe  grated  upon 
the  sand  a  few  yards  from  me;  and,  daubed  in 
all  the  glittering  paraphernalia  of  savage  war-paint 
and  plumes,  no  less  a  personage  than  Nat  stepped 
ashore  and  approached  me! 

I  was  upon  the  point  of  calling  out  to  him,  when 
I  saw  he  did  not  recognize  me.  Since  we  had  last 
been  together  my  beard  had  grown  considerably, 
and  my  dress  was  also  changed  to  that  of  a  semi- 
barbarous  one.  I  drew  my  hat  down  to  my  eyes, 
and  spoke  in  a  changed  voice. 

"  A  pleasant  day  this,  my  friend." 


"  No  less  personage  than  Nat  stepped  ashore." 


BILL  BIDDON,  TRAPPER.  24I 

"  Yes,  it  is,"  replied  the  same  natural,  cracked 
voice. 

"  A  fine  country  this,  too," 

"  Yes,  that's  so ;  didn't  expect  to  see  you." 

"And  why  not,  my  friend?" 

"  'Cause  'tain't  often  you  see  a  white  man  in  these 
parts ;  you're  the  first  one  I've  seen." 

"  And  how  is  it  you  are  here  yourself  ?  " 

"  Wal,  stranger,  there's  a  long  story  fastened 
to  that  question — a  longer  one  than  I  care  about 
spinning  at  present." 

"  You  are  not  a  prisoner,  I  hope." 

"  It  was  some  time  last  fall  I  got  tuk,  and  I've 
been  with  them,  of  course,  ever  since." 

"  And  why  have  you  remained  with  them  so 
long?  It  strikes  me  that  if  I  had  the  fine  oppor- 
tunity you  have,  I  should  not  be  long  waiting  to  bid 
them  farewell." 

"  You  see,  when  I  landed  down  here,  it  was 
winter,  and  if  you're  any  hunter,  as  I  calculate 
you  are,  from  your  dress,  you  must  know  that  a 
fellow  from  the  States  would  make  poor  work 
tramping  a  thousand  miles  at  such  a  time.  So  I 
concluded  to  wait  till  spring,  and  have  been  think- 
ing about  going  for  the  last  month  or  two,  but, 
somehow  or  other  I  haven't  got  started;  I  suppose 
'cause  I  haven't  had  a  good  start." 


242  ^^^^  BIDDON,   TRAPPER. 

"  What  were  you  doing  on  the  lake  ?  ** 

"  I  came  down  this  morning  to  fish,  and  seeing 
you  on  t'other  side,  took  you  to  be  an  Injin  fishin' 
and  so  I  paddled  across." 

"  You  are  allowed  considerable  liberty,  it  seems, 
after  all." 

"  Well,  I  have  considerable,  though  it  hain't 
done  me  much  good  so  fur." 

"  You  wish  to  return  to  the  States,  I  presume." 

"  I  guess  I  do ;  I  am  about  as  homesick  a  dog 
as  you  ever  laid  eyes  on,  and  there's  a  gal  home  that 
I  want  to  see  amazingly." 

At  this  remark  I  was  compelled  to  cough  several 
times,  to  prevent  bursting  into  a  loud,  boisterous 
laugh.  I  felt  like  dropping  upon  the  grass  and 
rolling  over  and  over,  and  yelling  like  an  Indian. 
But  I  restrained  myself,  and  determined  to  carry 
the  deception  further. 

"  She  most  likely  has  given  you  up  as  dead  by  this 
time." 

'*  I'm  a  little  afraid  she  has,  and  that's  the  reason 
I  want  to  go  down  and  tell  her  her  mistake.  But  I 
don't  know  as  it  would  be  any  use,  by  gracious !  " 
he  added,  in  a  desponding  tone. 

"  And  why  not,  pray  ?  " 

"  Oh,  there's  a  chap  named  Bill  Hawkins,  who 
thinks  he's  mighty  smart,  all  the  time  flourishing 


BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER.  243 

round  there.  I'd  just  like  to  lay  hands  on  him 
once,"  and  Nat  clinched  his  hands  and  shook  his 
head  menacingly.  Then  resuming  his  natural  man- 
ner, he  added,  quickly,  and  with  a  sort  of  despera- 
tion, ''  I  don't  care  though.  If  Sal  wants  him,  she 
can  have  him.'' 

"  That's  it.  Take  things  philosophically  is  my 
motto,  when  you  are  compelled  to." 

In  making  this  last  remark,  I  unwittingly 
dropped  my  voice  to  its  natural  key.  Nat  started 
and  raised  those  large,  blue  innocent  eyes  of  his, 
and  stared  wonderingly  at  me. 

"  Did  my  remark  surprise  you  ?  "  I  asked,  work- 
ing harder  than  I  ever  did  to  restrain  my  gravity. 

"  It  weren't  what  you  said,  but  your  voice 
sounded  amazingly  like  a  person  I  used  to  know, 
and  I  thought  maybe  you  might  be  him." 

"Perhaps  I  am." 

"  No ;  you  don't  look  like  him.  He  was  about 
your  size,  but  didn't  dress  like  you,  nor  didn't 
have  such  whiskers." 

"  What  was  his  name  ?  " 

"  William  Relmond,  from  New  Jersey." 

"  William  Relmond,  from  New  Jersey,"  I  re- 
peated, as  though  trying  to  recall  some  half- 
forpfotten  remembrance. 


244  ^^^^  BIDDON,  TRAPPER. 

"  He  used  to  be  called  '  Jarsey '  by  Bill  Biddon," 
added  Nat,  quickly,  as  if  to  aid  my  recollection. 

"And  do  you  know  Bill  Biddon,  a  trapper?"  I 
demanded,  eagerly. 

"  I  am  of  the  opinion  that  I  do,  being  as  I  have 
hunted  with  him  a  long  time." 

"  Ah !  indeed.  He  is  an  old  friend  of  mine.  I 
saw  him  some  time  since,  and  he  was  then  in  the 
service  of  the  Hudson  Bay  Company." 

"Didn't  he  say  anything  about  'Jarsey?'" 
■ "  Fve  hit  it  now !     Tliere's  where  I  heard  the 
name.    Yes ;  he  said  a  great  deal  about  him,  and  he 
also  mentioned   a   person   called   Nathan   Todd,   I 
think." 

"  I  am  the  man,  sir,"  responded  Nat,  with  con- 
siderable dignity. 

"  You  are !  I  recall  now  that  he  mentioned  the 
fact  of  your  captivity,  although  he  was  more  in- 
clined to  say  you  were  dead  and  gone  long  since." 

"  Bill  is  a  pretty  'cute  chap,  but  he's  mistaken 
there." 

"  Yes ;  he  seemed  to  cherish  a  warm  friendship 
for  you." 

"You  see  the  way  of  it  was  this:  Me  and  Bill 
Relmond  started  from  Independence  last  summer 
for  California.  The  company  we  was  with  ran 
away  from  us,  taking  my  knife  and  mare  wMh  them. 


BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER.  245 

So  we  started  fur  Californy  on  our  own  hook.    We 
came   across    this    Bill    Biddon    and    changed   our 
minds,  or,  rather,  Relmond  did,  and  concluded  to 
go  on  a  hunt  up  in  these  parts.    Well,  we  did,  and 
this  is  the  end  of  that  hunt.     We  'fixed  on  a  place 
down  on  the  Yellowstone,  and  would  have  spent  a 
good  time  if  it  hadn't  been  for  that  Relmond.     He 
was  a  good  fellow,  but  betwixt  you  and  me  (you 
needn't  say  nothing  about  it,  you  know),  he  was 
rather  soft,  and  I  had  to  keep  a  clus  watch  over 
him  to  prevent  his  getting  into  danger.    There  used 
to  come  some  In j  ins  down  the  stream  in  a  canoe, 
and  they  set  his  head  craz}-.     It  wasn't  the  Injins, 
though,  but  a  white  gal  they  had.     She  was  pretty, 
I  allow,  but  he  ought  to  have  knowed  better  than 
to  chase  her  as  he  did ;  he  might  have  knowed  what 
would  have  com.e  of  it.    We  used  to  go  down  and 
watch  this  canoe.     One  day  I  went  a  little  lower 
down   the   stream  than   he   did,   and   hid    in    some 
bushes  beside  the  water  to  take  a  good  look  at  the 
gal  and  the  Injins.     Pretty  soon  they  came,  and 
as  they  got  along  by  me,  by  gracious  if  they  didn't 
start  right  into  the  bushes  after  me !    I  was  so  fast 
in  the  roots  and  limbs  that  I  hadn't  time  to  git  out 
before   they  got  right  on  to  me.     I  then  up  and 
blazed  away  to  keep  them  oflF,  but  I  forgot  to  take 
afm.,  and  didn't  hit  them,  and  the  first  thing  I  knowed 


246  ^^^^  BIDDON,   TRAPPER. 

I  didn't  know  anything.  One  of  them  smashed  his 
tomahawk  square  at  me,  grabbed  me  by  the  nee  :, 
whopped  me  into  the  canoe,  paddled  to  the  other 
side,  and  made  me  walk  all  the  way  here.  I  haven't 
seen  Relmond  or  Biddon  since,  and  I  should  like  to 
know  what  has  become  of  them.*' 

"  Biddon  is  safe,  of  course ;  and  Relmond  was  a 
captive,  I  believe,  awhile,  but  he  managed  to  make 
his  escape  some  time  since." 

"  How  do  you  know  that  much,  I  should  like 
to  know  ?  " 

"  Simply  for  the  reason  that  I  am  William 
Relmond." 

Nathan  Todd  started  as  if  struck  by  a  thunder- 
bolt. His  eyes  and  mouth  opened,  his  rifle  fell  un- 
heeded to  his  feet,  and  he  stared  all  agape  at  me. 
His  face  was  such  an  embodiment  of  wonder, 
doubt,  then  certainty  and  pleasure,  that  I  gave  way 
completely  to  my  feelings,  and,  seating  myself  upon 
the  ground  rolled  over  and  laughed  one  of  tho3e 
laughs  which  rack  our  whole  being,  and  make  us  as 
weak  as  an  infant.  When  I  again  resumed  my  feet, 
my  old  friend  approached  and  extended  his  hand. 

"What  you  laughing  at?  I  knowed  it  was  you 
all  the  time." 

It  is  hardly  worth  time  to  dwell  upon  the  words 
which   passed  between   Nat   and  myself  after  my 


BILL  BIDDON,   TRAPPER.  247 

identity  became  known  to  him.  Of  course  he  was 
half  frantic  with  joy  in  turn,  and  overwhelmed 
me  with  questions  and  explanations,  and  in  the 
course  of  half  an  hour  we  both  came  to  a  full  under- 
standing. 

I  had  acquainted  Nat  with  my  separation  from 
Imogene,  and  that  she  was  waiting  for  me  at 
"  Death  Rock."  He  knew  the  place  well  and  with- 
out losing  time  we  hastened  forward.  He  had 
become  acquainted  with  Imogene,  and  had  often 
conversed  with  her  about  her  lost  sister,  and  of  me, 
little  dreaming  that  she  had  ever  seen  me. 

Nat  proved  his  knowledge  of  the  country,  for  his 
course  toward  the  Death  Rock  was  direct,  and,  ere 
we  had  traveled  many  miles  it  loomed  up  to  view. 
It  seemed  a  long  while  to  reach  it,  but  before  dark 
we  were  both  conversing  with  Imogene. 

The  night  was  spent  within  the  cave,  Nat  and  I 
conversing  around  the  fire,  while  Imogene,  wrapped 
in  our  blankets,  slumbered  unconsciously  beside  it. 
Nat  succeeded  in  catching  several  fine  trout  from  a 
small  mountain-stream,  and  when  we  resumed  our 
journey,  I  hardly  think  three  more  hopeful  people 
could  have  been  found  in  the  universe. 

Our  progress  was  less  rapid  than  usual,  as  we 
feared  for  Imogene,  although  her  life  had  been  such 
as  to  make  her  the  very  embodiment  of  health  and 


248  ^^^^  BIDDON,  TRAPPER. 

activity.  At  night  we  reached  a  bend  of  the 
Yellowstone,  and  camped  upon  its  banks.  A  fire 
was  again  kindled,  and  while  Nat  kept  watch,  I 
concluded  to  take  a  little  rest.  He  allowed  me  to 
sleep  heavily  until  morning,  when  I  was  aroused 
by  one  of  the  most  terrific,  unearthly  shrieks  that 
ever  greeted  mortal  ear. 

"  God  of  heaven !  what  does  that  mean  ? "  I 
exclaimed,  springing  to  my  feet 

"  Sounds  like  the  '  vSnorter,'  the  engine  that  I 
heard  on  the  Boston  road,"  answered  Nat,  rubbing 
his  eyes,  and  listening. 

"  Hush ! "  I  admonished,  as  again  that  hideous 
scream  burst  upon  us. 

"Wonder  if  the  Pacific  Railroad's  built  yet?" 
remarked  Nat,  with  the  utmost  nonchalance;  "  or, 
maybe,  some  of  their  engines  have  run  away  from 
them.'' 

As  I  stood  wondering  and  waiting,  the  gray 
light  of  morning  commenced  appearing  through 
the  forest,  and  shortly  the  day  dawned.  A  moment 
after,  as  I  was  about  to  awaken  Imogene,  the  awful 
scream  was  repeated,  seemingly  directly  across  the 
river.  It  was  different  from  a  human  voice,  but 
sounded  like  the  cry  of  a  wild  animal  in  extremity 
of  the  direst  agony. 

As  if  our  terror  was  still  too  faint,  we  now  heard 


BILL  BIDDONt  TRAPPER.  249 

the  loud  ring  of  a  bell,  apparently  from  the  very 
forest. 

"  What  is  that  ? "  asked  Imogene,  pale  with 
horror. 

"  Heaven  knows !  '^  I  answered. 

"  Sounds  like  the  old  bell  up  in  Lubec,"  remarked 
Nat ;  who,  singularly  enough,  was  the  least  agitated. 

"  Listen !  "  whispered  Imogene,  raising  her  hand. 

Now  was  heard  a  dead  sound  like  the  distant 
heave  of  the  stormy  sea,  growing  stronger  and 
nearer  each  second,  and  at  intervals  that  wild, 
unearthly  shriek  reverberated  through  the  forest 
arches  with  a  horrid  power. 

Matters  were  now  assuming  such  an  inexplicable 
form  I  began  to  fear  I  was  losing  my  senses.  I 
looked  around  upon  the  faces  of  others;  but  no — 
it  was  all  a  terrible  reality. 

"  Look ! "  spoke  Imogene,  in  a  husky  whisper, 
pointing  down  the  river. 

I  did  look  and  what  was  seen?  There,  just 
rounding  the  curve  of  the  Yellowstone  below  us, 
burst  the  broad  flaming  hull  of  a  steamboat. 

For  a  moment  I  could  scarce  believe  my  senses. 
Nat  was  the  first  to  recover  himself. 

"  I  knowed  what  it  was  all  the  time,  by  gracious ! 
Hilloa,  you ! " 

The  latter  exclamation  was  addressed  in  vocif- 


250  ^^^^  BIDDON,   TRAPPER. 

erous  tones  to  the  steamboat;  and,  fearing  lest  he 
might  still  escape  notice,  he  sprang  into  the  water 
and  waved  his  plumes  excitedly  over  his  head, 
yelling  at  the  top  of  his  voice  all  the  time.  We  had 
been  seen,  however,  and  heeded  by  those  on  the 
boat.  A  small  bell  tinkled,  and  instantly  the  huge 
wheel  of  the  steamer  reversed,  plowing  the  water 
into  foamy  waves,  and  quickly  bringing  it  to  a  stand 
still.  The  captain  then  stepped  from  his  wheel- 
house  and  hailed  us : 

"What's  wanted?" 

"  Supper  and  lodging,"  answered  Nat. 

"Who  are  you?" 

"  White  men  of  course." 

"  White  men ;  I  see  only  one,  and  you're  an 
Injin,  sure  as  I'm  Captain  Garbold." 

I  now  stepped  forward  from  the  shelter  of  the 
forest,  to  which  I  had  instinctively  retreated  with 
the  trembling  Imogene,  upon  the  appearance  of  the 
boat. 

"  Ah !  who  are  those  ? "  called  the  captain, 
instantly. 

"  We  are  whites,  as  you  can  readily  see,  and 
only  ask  to  be  taken  to  our  friends." 

The  captain  immediately  turned  and  spoke  to 
several  beside  him.  A  few  minute:  afterward  a 
small  boat  put  out  from  the  steamer,  and  Imogene, 


"  Hilloa,  you !  " 


BILL  BIDDON,  TRAPPER.  253 

followed  by  myself,  stepped  into  the  boat,  but  Nat 
lingered. 

"Come,  hurry,  Nat,  don't  keep  them  waiting," 
said  I. 

" Fm  going  to  remain!"  he  remarked,  quietly. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ? "  I  asked,  in  astonish- 
ment. 

He  approached,  and  whispered  in  my  ear: 

*'  I'm  going  to  hunt  up  Irene  Merment!'' 

"  Why 

"  Don't  say  anything,"  he  interrupted,  with  a 
smile.  "  I  will  do  it.  There  is  no  use  of  trying  to 
persuade  me  to  go  with  you.  My  mind  is  made  up, 
and  has  been  made  up  a  long  time." 

Imogene  joined  her  entreaties  with  mine,  but  he 
could  not  be  made  to  change  his  resolution.  Not 
wishing  to  detain  our  friends,  I  extended  my  hand. 

"  If  you  are  determined  to  remain,  I  must  now 
bid  you  good-by,  Nat.  Your  determination  is  so 
new  to  me  that  I  can  hardly  realize  it.  It  is  a 
hopeless  search  upon  which  you  are  going,  I  fear. 
May  the  One  who  has  so  mercifully  watched  over 
all  of  us,  still  protect  you.  If  you  ever  see  Biddon, 
don't  forget  me  to  him.    Good-by." 

"  Nor  me  either,"  said  Imogene,  taking  his  hand. 
*'  I  long  to  see  him,  to  pour  out  my  heart's  grati- 
tude to  him.    I  hope  we  shall  see  you  again." 


254  ^^^^  BIDDON,  TRAPPER, 

"  Oh !  yon  will,  sure.  I  shall  be  down  in  the 
States  one  of  these  days,  and  like  enough  bring  a 
wife  with  me,  and  several  little  Nat  Todds,  as 
good-looking  as  your  heirs  will  be.  You  mustn't 
think  this  is  a  last  farewell,  for  I  know  it  isn't." 

We  exchanged  farewells  once  more,  and  then 
were  rowed  out  to  the  steamboat.  As  we  were 
received  on  board,  Nat  swung  his  plume  over  his 
head,  and  shouted: 

''  Long  life  to  you !  the  fust  news  you  will  receive 
from  Nat  Todd  will  be  a  telegraphic  dispatch  from 
the  Rocky  Mountains,  '  that  he  is  making  a  sen- 
sation in  that  neighborhood.'  " 

Another  and  a  last  farewell,  and  the  eccentric 
being  had  vanished  in  the  forest. 

Imogene  had  no  suspicion  of  the  true  cause  of  Nat 
Todd's  erratic  course,  and  I  judged  it  best  to  let 
her  remain  in  ignorance  until  Nat  should  inform 
her  himself.  Whether  that  tim.e  was  ever  to  come 
or  not,  no  one  could  tell ;  but  I  had  strong  hope 
that  it  would. 

As  may  be  supposed,  our  advent  created  an  in- 
finite amount  of  questioning  and  wonderment  for 
our  new-found  friends.  The  boat  was  the  steamer 
"  Shooting  Star,"  which  had  been  sent  to  trace  the 
Yellowstone,  as  far  as  it  was  navigable,  by  a  com- 
pany in  St.  Louis.     They  proposed  opening  trade 


BILL  BIDDON,  TRAPPER.  255 

in  this  section,  and  knowing  well  the  prodigious 
resources  of  the  country  watered  by  its  tributaries, 
had  sent  a  skillful  captain  and  crew  to  ascertain 
its  character  and  availability.  This  river  had,  how- 
ever, been  ascended  before. 

The  "Shooting  Star"  ascended  the  Yellowstone 
several  hundred  miles  further,  until  brought  to  a 
stand  still  by  the  rapids  in  its  upper  part.  Several 
davs  were  spent  in  running  up  Clark's  Fork,  the 
Big  Horn,  Tongue,  Powder,  and  numerous  other 
streams,  many  of  which,  as  yet,  have  received  no 
names  though  of  considerable  size.  All  along  the 
banks  of  these  gathered  crowds  of  wondering 
Indians,  who  surveyed  us  with  mingled  terror  and 
amazement.  On  two  occasions,  when  halting  to 
wood,  the  crew  were  attacked  by  them,  and  one  of 
their  number  was  slain.  At  other  points  they  mani- 
fested a  friendly  disposition  and  bartered  extensively 
with  us. 

Finally  the  bow  of  the  boat  was  turned  home, 
and  on  a  glorious  morning,  in  the  latter  part  of 
June,  1850,  we  glided  into  the  turbid  waters  of  the 
f-nad  Missouri,  and  a  few  days  later  "  Shooting 
Star"  sunk  to  rest  at  the  wharves  in  St.  Louis. 
Accompanied  by  Imogene,  I  made  my  way  home 
as  rapidly  as  possible.  As  may  be  supposed,  my 
return    was    a   never-to-'be    forgotten    day   to   my 


256  ^^^^  BIDDON,  TRAPPER. 

friends.  The  caravan  which  I  had  joined  at  Inde- 
pendence, had  been  attacked,  a  few  days  subsequent 
to  my  separation  from  it,  by  an  overwhelming 
body  of  Apache  Indians.  Rumors  reached  the 
States  that  all  had  fallen  in  the  massacre,  and  my 
reappearance  was  like  the  dead  returning  to  life. 
The  reader,  I  trust,  can  imagine  the  few  remaining 
incidents.  After  inducing  Imogene  to  return  to 
the  States,  I  do  not  think  I  should  have  ever  for- 
given myself  had  I  not  offered  her  all  the  pro- 
tection within  my  power.  She  was  Hke  an  exotic 
at  first,  taken  from  a  distant  clime ;  but  love  works 
wonders.  To-day  there  are  few  accomplishments 
of  her  sex  which  she  does  not  possess.  True  there 
was  no  great  romances  or  mystery  yet  to  be  devel- 
oped in  her  history.  She  had  been  orphaned  when 
a  young  child,  in  the  terrible  manner  described  by 
the  trapper  at  the  commencement  of  this  tale.  I 
had  gained  no  princess  or  wealthy  heroine,  but 
simply  a  wife,  in  the  truest  sense  of  the  word. 

The  history  of  Nat  Todd's  adventures  and 
journey  to  the  Rocky  Mountains,  together  with  a 
further  account  of  Bill  Biddon,  the  Trapper,  and  of 
Irene  Merment,  the  lost  sister,  will  be  given  the 
reader  in  another  volume. 

THE  END. 


I\(3  " 

75 


